CLUES
by AndyDona.chan
Summary: After season 3. John, Mary, Mrs. Hudson and Mycroft are working together with Sherlock to find out who made the "Miss me" broadcast around the contry, they're going to spend time together for safety issues, but there are some things that are happening with Sherlock and Molly Hooper, there are some clues left on the way. A Sherlolly story. Also posted at AO3.
1. Strawberry jam

**Hello! This is the very first fanfic i write in a vry long time (i used to write when i was 12 and till i got 15, now i'm 25 :O), i've been working on this story for a week or so, i think there are very few language or grammar problems, please tell me if you find anything, I really hope you like it, im not used to write in english (i'm from Mexico) and i would really love to know what you think about this; this is a Sherlolly story, a bit out of my comfort area but its a start (i'm more of fantasy stories). There's a general disclaimer on my profile, please read it, i tried to make it work for any kind of story.**

**Now, to the thing that keeps me comming back to read amaizing stories, the fanfiction.**

**1.- CLUES.**

John's blog...

_It's been a hell of a week! No, seriously, first there was the whole Sherlock leaving issue, and then he didn't left at all, as you may know he still have a problem with Scotland Yard and everything because of "that thing". I cannot tell you what happened; Sherlock's brother has been working a lot to keep the whole thing down, and then there's the "Miss me" broadcast that's been keeping the entire city in chaos._

_Of course we've been working on that thing as well, and I'm really sorry but I can't write about that case at all, still, I have other things you may found interesting, this blog is the only place where I can allow my self some time for the actual day by day life that I'm so needing right now. So let's star with the new living arrangements, my mad best friend says is going to be like this only for a month, I hope he's right._

_The whole Moriarty's case has been called back to light, and so, that means that Mary and me (and our unborn child I may add), Mrs. Hudson, Molly Hooper and part of the DI team that were with us that time were moved to a safety house provided by the eldest of the Holmes brothers, Sherlock is staying here too, although he's not really happy about it…_

John looked up from the computer screen and sighed, there was not really a lot to write without giving away specific and very secret details about the whole problem. He was tired; the things that happened just after Sherlock's plane landed back and they were escorted to Scotland Yard were just a blur in his memory now.

Once there some people had taken Sherlock to give him a special device to keep track of him in the city, as if he were going to escape anywhere with a case this interesting, because while it was obvious that he was a bit worried, there was also this happiness coming from him, as if he were waiting for something like this to happen.

The first thing they did was get back to Baker Street and take Sherlock's laptop, then they started working, moving through the net searching for the origin of the signal that was still broadcasting the same message over and over again, it was a bit difficult, but some cops and a group from Mycroft's team were able to find a place, and just like that Sherlock, John and DI Lestrade were out.

They had found a computer inside and empty flat in a building just a little outside of the city, the computer was the only thing in the room, the internet connection was being stolen from the neighbors. Sherlock stopped them before they could enter the room and had observed every detail inside before allowing them in, then, he went to the computer and shut the program down and checked any other file that could be in the hard drive, he told Lestrade that it was necessary that he took the computer to the place where they were going to be working later, the Detective took out his phone and called someone to do so.

After that they had headed back to Baker Street, only to find a car waiting for them to take them to a safety house. Mycroft was in the car when they got inside; he quickly told them that Mary and Mrs. Hudson were already at the house, Molly Hooper was getting there and they were looking for the people that were originally involved in the case.

Sherlock had said very little since he had got down the plane, and wasn't actually paying attention, leaning on his knees with his hands clasped in front of his face while John asked how was Mary if they had taken everything he might need and how long they were going to stay there. Mycroft was not really a man he trusted very much, and with Mary's due date coming soon he was worried.

When John finally was assured that every thing had being taken care of, Mycroft looked at his brother and started speaking in that infuriating way he had when he was trying to get a direct answer from Sherlock.

It was then that the Consulting Detective looked up and started talking. –Someone escaped. Someone from Moriarty's network escaped and was hiding under Magnuseen's. It might not be safe to have me here, they wanted to keep me here, and that's why they stopped me.

-That's obvious Sherlock- said Mycroft- and that's why you're going to stay here, it's going make it easier for us to find the tread. Also …

-Yes, there's a traitor within you line brother, you might need to make a full research of all your employees, they knew when I was leaving, and the level of security that was breached is worrying, and with so little…

-Wait, is the safety house we're heading now safe at all? – asked a very worried John.

- Not sure- said Sherlock- I would suggest some people to take the CCTV and monitoring, but of course there's still the need to interrogate and make sure we can trust all of them. Its' going to be only for a short time, only while Mycroft manages to get the houses surrounded by security.

-Already working on that- said Mycroft.

-It's not Moriarty really, is it? - asked John.

-Of course not, he died, he shut his brains out, Mycroft made sure to secure the body, get an autopsy and dispose of the body personally.

-I was there the entire time, there's no way he might be alive of someone to have stole or manipulated the body. James Moriarty is dead.

-But then… if the person behind all this somehow knew about Sherlock having to leave because of Magnussen's murder was also somebody who used to work for Moriarty then… They might know something about Mary!

-Shut up John! - said Sherlock looking from John to Mycroft.

-Mary? Mary Watson? What does your wife have to do with any of this? - asked Mycroft, Sherlock sighed. John gapped at him; he hadn't really thought that maybe Mycroft Holmes didn't know a thing about his wife secret past. –Never mind, I'll know when I have to know, nothing's really hidden from me too long.

Sherlock looked away, facing the window on his side. John felt ashamed, but then the car stopped and some guards went to the car to help them get in the big house they were now going to live for the next few months.

They had spent the week working on maps and the full networks involved, it was during this time that John learned that Magnussen's was not the first for Sherlock, while he had been away, death for the UK, he had tracked down and taken down a really big group of people, it was then that he understood why Sherlock had faked his death in the first place, why he hadn't said a thing about his plan to him, why he hadn't even told him what he had done in detail, it had been easier for him to believe he was dead, for if he had known all the terrible things he was doing while away he might not be able to talk to him again.

While his experience in the army helped a little to understand the reasons behind such actions, it took John some time to look at Sherlock under this new light, it was making clear where some of his quirks had come from.

_If something has to be said is that there's not been any other incident regarding our actual case, so maybe we will be able to take some other cases to spend time, we just need time to get used to living like this._

Mary's voice called him, thinking that what he wrote was enough for the day he saved and uploaded his text, checking the 'disable comments' space of the page.

-What is it love? - He asked turning around in the chair to see Mary looking at him from the bed.

-Sorry to bother you, but I would really like to be able to get up and get something sweet.

-You shouldn't be having all this cravings this far in the pregnancy.

-They're not a lot; it's just now and then! - She said.

-Ok, give me a moment; I think I heard someone mention strawberry jam. - Mary smiled happily at him, and he stood up and walked to the kitchen to get some bread and jam.

He walked down the stairs and moved in the direction of the kitchen. The house Mycroft had get them was like a manor, it had enough rooms for all the people currently living there, the only common places were the kitchen, the dinning room, the house had at least three full bathrooms so they didn't have to share that much, the living room was supposed to be a free space too, but Sherlock had all his research and papers there and he wouldn't let anybody enter the room unless they were working with him.

Molly was sitting at the table in the kitchen, reading a book; the kettle was on the stove, so maybe she was just about to make some tea or coffee.

-Night Molly! - said John going to the shelves to get the food.

She just nodded, John took out a plate and some bread, and then stared looking for the strawberry jam, Molly was still a bit upset for being there, she had even had a fight with Sherlock that morning, or at least that's what he thought it was. The kettle started to boil and Molly got up to make her tea.

-Would you like some tea John?

-No, not really, I'm looking for the strawberry jam, had you seen it?

-Didn't know we had. – She said adding some sugar to her cup.

-Yeah, Mrs. Hudson mentioned it this morning, Sherlock must know, knowing him, he must have taken the whole thing to his room.

As if on cue Sherlock entered the kitchen in that moment, dressed to sleep apparently, only with a t-shirt and pajama bottoms.

-Night – he said in a bored tone.

-Have you seen the strawberry jam? - asked John.

-What are you talking about? - Sherlock went to the fridge and helped himself a bottle of water and started drinking it.

-I heard Mrs. Hudson saying something to you about the jam, where is it?

Sherlock started to cough loudly, his face red, spilling water over his t-shirt. Molly took her cup of tea and left the kitchen quickly.

-Are you ok? - asked John.

Sherlock nodded, still wiping some water from his mouth.

-What did you do to Molly? You're not making her feel uncomfortable, are you? She's supposed to feel safe here, you were the one to ask Mycroft to get her here, and to have as much protection as possible when she goes to work, it's not going to work if she is feeling isolated instead of protected.

-There's not strawberry jam here, but there's honey and that chocolate flavored cream that you like in those shelves- said Sherlock, pointing behind John and taking another sip from his bottle.

John shook his head at his friend's attitude, he took some honey and then headed up to the bedroom again; he found Molly sitting on the stairs now, and she had to stand up when John approached, they just smiled at each other. When he was at the other end of the stairs he could hear Sherlock and Molly speak, but he went straight to the room. He was confident that Sherlock would talk to Molly and apologize; he always did when he suggested something about his behavior.

Sherlock went to Molly as soon as he was sure John wouldn't hear them.

-Strawberry jam, eh? - She said smiling widely at him.

-That was Mrs. Hudson, not me. Are you feeling better now? I'm sure it's not what any of us would have expected, but I can assure you it's not going to be for too long.

Molly just nodded. Putting her cup of tea on the floor she got up again and walked towards him, Sherlock opened his arms and hug her comfortingly. That morning, when John was getting ready to go to work (the group had agreed to remain working to maintain a façade of normality with average people, and to be able to move around the city and take note of any suspicious thing that could happen while they were at the safety house) Molly had entered the leaving room to talk to Sherlock.

She was scared, she was having problems to sleep at night, and she was getting stressed by trying to keep herself aware of everything and everybody around her that could represent a menace, knowing nothing about the case, and feeling left out with any information of the actual reason that was ruining not only her life and privacy, but her confidence in the world outside. It was just too much. So that morning, dressed completely different to what she usually wore, with her hair hidden under a hat, and too much makeup, she went to tell Sherlock that she was leaving, probably taking any plane to any other country while the case was being dealt with.

But as soon as Sherlock had saw her, she started crying shouting her plans at a shocked Sherlock, he had tried to reassure her that everything was going to be all right, that there was no need for her to leave, he needed her here. Of course it was for something specifically for the case, but she must stay. She tried to fight him, push him away and run, but he had held her like he was doing right now, it was then that she had calmed enough to make a deal with him.

She was going to stay, but she needed to get involved in the case, and be allowed to work with him. He didn't want to let her, but he agreed. After some awkward moments of being holding each other Sherlock suddenly changed the topic.

-What kind of clothes are these? - Molly blushed, and looked down at her attire.

-A disguise?- she tried to explain, but Sherlock only started laughing, she did too, feeling like a bit relieved that he hadn't make any hurtful comment about her clothes.

-Yes, a disguise, nothing more, – said Sherlock taking the hat from her head and putting it on himself. – Oh, and look, you're even wearing a lot of makeup as well, were you thinking of hiding in a circus? It could have worked.

-Shut up Sherlock! - Molly said, feeling a bit embarrassed of her make up skills, she wasn't used to wear make up, and when she did it was very little, so this time even she had to admit that her face was feeling a bit to heavy with the products, that added to her recent crying must have ruined it even more and made her look like a clown with mascara lines running down her cheeks, flushed as they may be.

- What did you put on your lips? Is not lipstick, but it does smells like strawberry…

She looked at Sherlock, realizing that she was still cradled in his arms, for a moment they looked at each other, feeling brave Molly stood on her tip toes and pressed her lips to his lightly.

-Strawberry lip gloss- she said moving away, leaving a frozen Sherlock in the living room.

Later that day Mrs. Hudson had called him to have some breakfast, John was all ready eating at that moment, so he sat down and waited for the old lady to bring him a cup of tea. The woman then looked at him and with a finger brushed something from the corner of his mouth.

-Were you eating something with strawberry jam Sherlock?

Back in the present Sherlock couldn't stop himself from laughing a bit at how that simple phrase had led to John looking for said jam…

-Go to sleep Molly, there are still harder things to come and I have yet to work out all Magnussen's network to find our "missing link".


	2. Antiseptic

**Ok, so this is the second chapter, the first one was a bit short and i was really nervous and expecting a bit more feedback, but i keept writting, maybe because i keep wondering what kind of thing we're suposed to expect once the next season arrives (however long it takes). There's an actual plot to all of this, so i'll keep writting, if you read it (there are not many readers yet) please suggest and share (if you like it), i would to know what you think about it, but its not compulsory.**

**So, here it is, the second chapter:**

* * *

2. - Antiseptic (bites)

During the following days the stress of being in the safety house was starting to make things difficult for Sherlock and the others, Mycroft and his people were keeping things a bit low for them even when they were updating their findings as often as possible. The living room (or maybe just Sherlock's work room) was covered in papers, photos, maps and red string lines connecting one thing to another, so obviously it was like a spider web mess.

The consulting detective was almost full time in there, murmuring to himself, writing notes and diving in mountains of papers looking for his lost lap top. John once saw him fast asleep on one of the clean spots of the living room (at this point a corner of the room while leaning on the couch) with a notebook on his lap and what looked like a bread stick that was probable being used as a pen before he fell asleep.

It was a bit worrying, but since he excused himself with the "I'm used to this" phrase and his temper was not helping, most of the time they just ignored him unless they were working with him, which was a bit annoying actually. Otherwise cohabitants in the house had notice certain change on the detective, at least in regards to the women in the house. First there was Molly.

At the beginning of their second week there, while Mycroft was there delivering some information, every one was gathered there (well, as in saying 'every one' that was working on the case) when Molly entered the dinning room and took a seat next to Lestrade. Mycroft had stopped just in that moment, but a quick glance to Sherlock made him start over. Right after that she had left with out saying a thing.

-What was that? With Molly? - asked John when they were back at the living room reading files and trying to make out if the data in there was related to the case.

-She wanted to know what's going on, I promised to let her know any news on the case so she could calm down a bit, a few days ago she was trying to leave.- said Sherlock still looking at the files in his hands.

-Leave? What… is she crazy?

-She had a disguise and everything: -, John sighed- wouldn't have worked.

-Why didn't you tell us? - Sherlock stood up and went to see the wall he was using as a scrap board.

-She's still here John, thought that was the point.

-We could have talked to her! Mary and Mrs. Hudson would have worked out something to keep her entertained. They know how important is to keep her safe, how affected she is by all this.

-I know John, really. Can't you give some credit? I managed to keep her here.

-You do realize that every thing that she's heard is going to make her feel uncomfortable; she already thinks that this is in part her fault.

-But is not! Now, shut up John. I'm working! - shouted Sherlock, knowing his friend's temper was very unstable at the moment John looked back down to his work, Magnussen's network was vast, a whole new level over what Moriarty's had been, and trying to track someone connected to them both and also with the connections to get into Mycroft's wasn't easy, even more when said man had been quiet since that chaotic broadcast.

Mycroft himself had been working on finding the leak within his own people, thus the heavy lot of files on the corner of the room where the names of every one of his employees was registered by the Holmes brothers every time they spent time together. Watching them work side by side with out making sarcastic or offensive comments was quite a sight. No body would have ever thought that those two worked so well together, but Mycroft was after all the one that had taught Sherlock to make deductions.

Sherlock's attitude toward Mary and Mrs. Hudson had changed as well, Mary's due date was quickly approaching, and for some odd reason he was getting an habit, at least once a day Sherlock would enter what ever room Mary was at the moment, he then sat there and proceed to read some of the files, or search something on the internet or any other thing, if they talked about anything John didn't know, they certainly didn't when he was there. Those visits were at least two hours long, and judging by the way sometimes Mary was lost in her own thoughts there was something going on.

It was on Friday that "finally" (quoting Sherlock) something happened. At first it was just something like an isolated case, not really something they would put attention to. That night Lestrade went to the house with some news papers and a file with an interesting case.

-There have been 4 similar cases lately. - Said the detective inspector opening the file and showing them some pictures and postmortem reports- In all the victims the cause of death was drug overdose, at first sight it doesn't look like something you would mind, just some junkie after a very unfortunate moment, but then there was something that called our attention. - For this Lestrade showed them the next set of photos- Every one of them have a letter, it could be a tattoo, or a mark made by an ink pen, one of them was a nasty wound, and the last case was a scar.

John and Sherlock were both looking at the photos and the reports, so far the letters found in the bodies were "I", "F", "W" and "Y". Sherlock looked at the four photographs that showed the letter marked in the different bodies.

-I need to see those bodies, but first I need you to find out if there's been any other case like this, maybe some case that wasn't isolated, maybe the family found them or the drug overdose was listed as part of the death cause, make sure they have filed any specific sign like the letters here, there's a message hidden here, and I don't really like what it must mean.

-You think is the same person we're looking for?

-There's a possibility.

John's blog…

… _It took DI Lestrade four days to update Sherlock on the data he brought us, after that of course we did some actual field work. First we took Molly with us to St. Bart's morgue, where she and Sherlock started working on the victims, there were 12 in total. In the end it was actually a hidden message, took sometime to get the letters arranged to be coherent, and also there was the fact of the overdose._

_When Sherlock suggested that we went to the city (of course to specific places that he deducted) looking for the a drug dealer connected to at least one of the many victims, everybody looked at him as if he was crazy, well crazier than how he already is, he said he was offended that we had thought instantly that he was going to get drugs for himself._

_Surprisingly Molly was the one who told him, that if he ever took any more drugs she was going to make sure that his death wasn't caused by them, it made us laugh for a while. Of course Sherlock, being the drama queen he is, told her that she was "very kind" and that maybe she should take care of him while he did his part of the investigation. Poor Molly she had to endure Sherlock's bad temper that day (at least now she knows what I have to deal with)._

_Needless to say is the fact that they had been arguing more than usual since then, last time I checked they were giving the silence treatment to each other, it's quite amusing. We still have some work to do, and I know you would like to know more details, because there's more, but I'm afraid I can't write any more that what I have already did. Now that we have more evidence, as Sherlock always says "The game is on"._

Again John saved the new entry to his blog, this time allowing any reader to make a comment. It was little after he had shut his computer of that Sherlock entered his room.

-John- he said in a pained voice- do you have any antiseptic cream or a spare antibiotic? - He said with a hand to his jaw.

-Sure. Why?

-Because I need to use any of them, maybe both please.

-I mean why do you need any of those? - said John a bit grudgingly.

-Because…- he looked thoughtful for a moment, then sighed- I just cut myself with… a thing, and now I am hurt and don't want any infections.

-What were you doing? Maybe you should let me see - said John getting up and trying to take Sherlock's hand from his jaw, to which he gave a step backwards and turned to his right in an attempt to stay out of the doctor's reach.

-No.

-Sherlock, I'm a doctor, let me see what happened. - To his surprise Sherlock went straight to the door and said.

-Never mind, I'll tell Mrs. Hudson, she always carries lots of creams with her.

John looked at him incredulously, and then followed him out the door. Sherlock kept walking, he knew John was following him, and when they reached Mrs. Hudson's room both got inside. The old lady almost fell of the bed when they entered.

-Oh, Sherlock. Is everything ok?

-Yes Mrs. Hudson. I just wanted to ask you, if you have any antiseptic or antibiotic that you could give me.

-Yes of course, but I think John…

-He doesn't want my help. - Sherlock sighed and looked again at Mrs. Hudson.

-Just give one please.

The landlady stood up and looked inside a little suit case on the night stand; she then took out a pill and handed it to Sherlock.

-Thank you Mrs. Hudson. – Then a beep sounded, it was the message alert of his phone, Sherlock swallowed the pill and then took his mobile from his pocket.

He read the message quickly, and was about to put his phone back inside his jacket again when John took it out of his hand and walked backwards looking at the screen of the phone, it didn't took long for him to find the message, and he started reading.

-"I know you're still mad. I'm sorry. For the hundredth time today, let me help you. M"- John shook the mobile phone in his hand in front of Sherlock mockingly. –Who is "M"?

Sherlock frowned and tried to get his mobile back, but John was faster than him.

-Is it Molly? It can't be Mary, you were perfectly fine with her a while ago, and I'm sure she wouldn't send a message to apologize, she would face you. Since you'd be willing to avoid the person that sent this message and you're not avoiding my wife, the only possible explanation is that is Molly.

-I'm impressed- said Sherlock taking back his phone this time. -How did you know?

- You don't know many people whose name start with an M. And you've been hiding your "cut" since we came back yesterday. It was actually a bit hot today, but you kept your scarf high over your face. You can't just live with the infamous Sherlock Holmes without learning something.

Mrs. Hudson that had stood watching the pair in her room argues said then – Poor Molly, what did you do to her this time?

Sherlock looked offended – Why does it have to be always me the one who did something wrong? Need I remind you that she's the one apologizing this time? - And then he turned around dramatically and walked out of the room.

-Sorry Mrs. Hudson, he's been… weird.

-Don't worry John. I understand. But he must have done something to make her do what ever she did to him.- John nodded – Good night – he said, and then he left too.

Sherlock walked towards his room, the lights were off but he sensed that someone was already there.

-What are you doing here?

-You wouldn't answer, so I thought it was better if I came to see you.

Sherlock frowned, and switched on the lights, Molly was sitting on his bed, wearing a jumper that seemed to be three sizes bigger than her, sweatpants and slippers.

He didn't say a thing, but went to sit next to her. Immediately Molly turned her head to see him, she took his hand from his jaw, when he didn't protest she took a good look to the wound there, it was red and swollen, if anyone were to see it they would have noticed the teeth marks, a bite.

-I'm sorry…

-I know- Sherlock cut her off.

-Tell me. What does that kiss meant? Last week…

-I thought it was obvious. I wanted to keep you here. – Molly looked at him with wide eyes. – I am trying to protect you Molly, and you were so nervous, also I know that you like me, and when I was holding you, the smell of you lip gloss was really strong, I was looking at your lips trying to find the best way to ask you to let me taste it, now I realize that looking at someone's lips is like the universal cue for "kiss me", and then you did. Two birds with one stone, I got to taste your lip gloss and you calmed down enough to stay.

-But you looked shocked after…

-Well it wasn't a plan or anything, and I'm pretty sure you know of my lack of knowledge in this kind of situations.

-But you were with Janine for a while.

-Haven't you heard Molly? I wasn't really expecting you to kiss me, Janine on the other hand, well, I had to make her feel that I was interested, every thing was planned. I knew what to expect.

Molly then slid her hand into her sweatpants pocket and took out a cream tube, she opened it and put some of the product on the wound, and then she handed the cream to Sherlock.

-It wasn't my intention to hurt you like this, but you were being unbearable.

Sherlock choose that moment to look at her, he hadn't since the moment he sat down beside her. Molly blushed and turned to look at the floor.

Three days ago they were working at the morgue, the bodies they had been checked were al ready done, they were just making the last notes over the reports and Sherlock's files, the letters found there were still a puzzle, most of them had been tattoos, initials of names or nicknames, some of them were carved in the skin with purpose, one of them was painted with blood, two of the victims were twins and had the same letters, but there was three of a different letter as well.

John and Lestrade were working on the following table, trying to make sense of the possible meaning of the letters. Was it an acronym? A place? Sherlock stood up from his files, closing them; he looked at the letters and then went straight to get his coat.

-Come on, we're leaving. - John and Lestrade looked at him; Molly was finishing her own reports but hurried up at his words.

-But we still don't know what this means.

-It's a message, it says "I will find you", looking at the approximated time of death of the victims and then at the letters you can see there's an order to them, once arranged they make sense. Let's go! - He then went out; when they found him he was leaning against the wall at the door, talking with someone on his phone.

-Yes, I need at least another person to help with this, but first you need to find out if any one has ever hear our victims name, just to know who they bought from. Don't worry I'll work that out with George… ok, see you in two hours then.- Sherlock hung up the phone and started talking again. – There's a chance that this people is connected in some way, maybe not in the usual way, they got the drugs somehow.

-You think the drug dealer knows something?

-Of course, I've been talking to Wiggins, he is going to bring another person to help us; John, Wiggins and I are going to find the drug dealer and through him the person that's trying to find us. - John, Molly and Lestrade looked at him as if he were crazy. - What? …Dear Lord, are you seriously thinking that I'm going back to drugs? Because I'm not, I've already told you it was a case.

-Who's George? - asked Lestrade a bit upset, and trying to change the subject.

-It's you of course, since my homeless network is built of actual homeless people, they don't want to go to prison because of the drugs thing, and I need you to make sure that doesn't happen.

-My name is Greg.

-No, it's not.

-Wait, you want to go and look for a drug dealer with John? - asked Molly.

-I would rather go alone, but it's the general idea. He would be more useful looking by himself, of course with the police as a backup, just to make sure our suspects are being watched.

-You can't go.

-Sorry?

-I won't let you; I cannot trust you when we're talking about drugs.

-You're not my mother.

-Listen to me Sherlock, if you ever drug yourself again I won't let you be one of those bodies, you will not die of and overdose, I'll make sure of it.

Sherlock looked at her with a frown, he looked like he was about to shout something mean at her, but they had been arguing a lot lately, so he just said.

-Ok Molly, I think you should show us how very kind you are and be my career on this mission, that way you can make sure that what I said about last time being for a case is true. - Molly was a bit surprised by this, but she just looked at Lestrade.

-I am going with Sherlock in this; please make sure we're being watched so he can't fool us.

-Yes ma'am. - said the Detective Inspector smiling. John couldn't help laughing at Sherlock's incredulous face.

Later that day they were actually working out Sherlock's plan. Wiggins and a man called Jack were beside John Molly and him looking at the details.

-Right, so tomorrow night John is going to this place, Wiggins is going with him to make sure he talks to the right person, Sherlock, Molly and Jack are going to the other side of the city, around midnight if the person you're talking with is not who you think he is then you must go to the next night club in the list. – said Lestrade to the group pointing in a map the list of pubs and night clubs that Sherlock had deduced were the most likely places to find the drug dealer they were looking for by the information gathered by his network. – My team is going to be around as well, we will sort out any possible menace. (*)

So after that the next day practically slid out of their hands, in between calls from Sherlock's network and finding ways to disguise so they wouldn't be recognized in the crowd. When it was time for them to start looking for the drug dealer everything was ready.

John and Wiggins were dressed as employees of some office, their excuse was that they were trying to relax after a hard day, or at least that was what John was going to say, Wiggins was just his nearest backup.

Molly and Sherlock were dressed in outfits that they would never wear. Sherlock to start with hadn't shaved and was using a cap, a t-shirt of some rock band, jeans and sneakers. Molly was wearing a purple dress, mid thigh length, her hair was tied up and Mary and Mrs. Hudson had helped her with some make up, her high heels were somehow comfortable, and for some reason she felt confident. Their excuse was something along the lines of "want some fun to spend the night", which made her a bit nervous, but since it was Sherlock the one that was going to talk she wasn't worrying that much.

The first two places that they visited lead to no information, they had let the victims name slip as those who suggested them to find the person they talked to. In the second place John called to say that the last person he had talked to was a bit upset to hear the name he had used to approach, and had advise them to be careful because he had made a phone call the moment he left.

The night for Molly wasn't going as she had wanted it to go, she had danced, and had a few drinks, it was something she had already thought to do, but Sherlock was apparently bored, and every time Jack was near them he pulled her with him and because of that Molly had already spilled her feet with her drinks, something that was causing her to feel sticky and for some mosquitoes to have a taste of her blood ('No more sweet drinks' she swore).

When finally Sherlock went to the person that Jack had pointed as the drug dealer the man snapped at him and told him that he was not the person they were looking for, Sherlock excused himself and went back to Molly, he leaned down and whispered- He is the drug dealer we are looking for! - Molly felt goose bumps run up her back, and tried to look around at the man.

-Don't look at him! Send a message to Lestrade, and tell him we're following him and will send another message with his location once we found him.

Molly nodded and did as he said. Then they moved from their seats and went to a zone where the dealers couldn't see them, the man stood up as soon as he lost sight of them and walked to an emergency exit on the back of the room. They waited a minute before following him, the exit lead to a lonely street, there were some trash bins outside; the man was a few steps away talking furiously with some one on his phone at the other end of the building. They went near and tried to hear what he was talking about.

-…knew that Charles guy! Said he suggested me, but ever since… yeah, thought he had moved away. He said he was going to leave; it wasn't safe for him or something… No, told hem I wasn't that guy. – Molly tried was feeling cold, and had started to tremble a bit, also she was getting an itch on her right leg because of the mosquitoes and was trying to ignore it. She moved her feet from where she was standing and her right foot landed over a plastic bag, making her slip a bit and squeal a little before Sherlock catch her and pushed her to the wall with a hand to her mouth.

The man had listened to them, there wasn't really any way to hide, and so Sherlock put his hands on either side of her pushed her to the wall and whispered. - Be quiet.

He then lowered his head till it was just over her shoulder and right next to her neck, he was just pretending, but she could feel his warm breath on her skin and that made her blush. She could feel his hand had his mobile phone and he was probably sending the message to Lestrade while hiding behind her back.

-Hey! You two! Are you following me? I told you… - in that moment Molly thought that if they were supposed to make the man think they were not listening to his conversation the at least could be more realistic, so she kissed Sherlock's jaw and went straight to his ear. He tried to look at her, but she didn't let him, putting her hands on his shoulders she took advantage of the position to raise her right leg and scratch some of the itch she had on his leg.

-Go find a room! – said the man walking back to where he was standing a moment before. Sherlock then looked at her wide eyed, she smiled wickedly to him, the man turned to look at them again and Molly used that moment to pull Sherlock back to her and put her mouth to his jaw again.

-Molly…- he said a bit breathlessly- they'll see us.

-You're a terrible actor Sherlock.

-But…- the man was looking at them again suspiciously, without thinking what she was about to do, she bit Sherlock, getting a painful moan in reward, that hopefully the dealer interpreted as pleasure instead of pain.

In that moment the police made his entrance and the man was captured, Sherlock and Molly separate themselves from each other and went to Lestrade's car. Sherlock immediately opened the back door and took his coat and scarf out of it, leaving the cap inside. Molly also took her jacket out.

-You did find him. How are you sure it's him?

-I saw him before when we arrived, right before John's message arrived the man was talking with some one, he was a bit upset, then when Jack first saw him he recognized him and got angry when I mentioned the victim's name, he was expecting something like this to happen, that's how I knew.

-Ok, for good measure the man that John saw it's ready to be interrogated as well.

-Take us there Gavin.

-It's Greg!

Molly went inside the back of the car, expecting Sherlock to go with her, but he took the seat in the front and didn't look at her. Making her feel guilty of her behavior, only to feel worst the moment he put his scarf as bit higher than normal hiding the place where she had bit him, from that moment on Sherlock barely talked to her.

Sitting on the bed now, Molly scratched her leg through the fabric of her sweatpants, Sherlock smiled, at least that night both had been bitten.

-I would appreciate if you could actually warn me every time you want to place your mouth near my face, it's quite dangerous. - Molly looked up again and smiled.

-So, I'm forgiven? You're not mad anymore?

Sherlock nodded, Molly got up and walked to the door, ready to leave.

-Molly! – said Sherlock stopping her before she could go out, she turned around just in time to see him behind her. Now it was her the one took by surprise when Sherlock pressed his lips against her like the first time. –I'm not saying that I wouldn't like it to be near; I just want to know when it's going to happen.

And with that he let her go.

(* I don't really know the UK, not even one bit, I've never been there and because of that I will not mention any locations apart from those in the actual story [Baker Street, Bart's Hospital, …], I promise to visit that lovely country sometime; right now I can't and it may take a while for me to actually go, but I will. Until then I'm not sure how much I can rely on google maps or google earth to locate places, so I'm not using them either for this story.)


	3. Lost Phone

**Ok, so i found out that complaining is not the answer, the answer is long chapters... Something that has become something difficult to stop, all those years without writting are finally wanting to be used, i wish i could have a beta reader, but i must remind you i'm relatively new in the page and i don't really know anybody to ask, but i promise to check my chapters again and reupload them when i can, also here in Mexico people don't really get along reading things in this language unless they're as crazy as me with everything that there is to know (curiosity helps a lot). I hope you enjoy the story, keep reading and don't be afraid to send a review, i like to know what you think about my crazy ideas. Something you might notice in this chapter is my love for babies, i'm no doctor and don't really know much about healthy issues, remember this is all fiction, i tried to make it reasonable.**

**Third chapter, believe me, it was longer than expected but i think it's worth it.**

* * *

**3.- Lost Phone**

With her left arm in the warm water supporting the little body of her newborn daughter, Mary poured some of the warm liquid with her right hand over her to get rid of the soap on her sensitive skin. Her daughter was so beautiful, the little hair on her head was blonde, her eyes were the same shade as John's and her tiny body was so perfect and delicate that if she were a different woman she would have been afraid to give her this simple bath for being afraid of breaking her.

But she was used to handle delicate things. Her little girl could have been made of the thinnest glass and it would not break, she was that confident, and she loved her, so her reasons to feel safe should have been enough. But they weren't. Even being the woman she was, with her training and her skills, she felt as if someone was looking at her, watching her every move, waiting for any distraction on her part to take from her what little she had got.

Baby Sophie was calm, with her eyes wide open; she knew that at this age there was little her baby could make out with her brand new eyes, but it gave her the feel that her child was watching her, that she was able to tell that she was worried and somehow that made her feel stronger.

Carefully she took her baby out of the water and to the bed where she was going to change her. The girl feeling her mother's hand leave her body started moving.

-Calm down beauty, I'm going to get you dressed and comfy for you to go to sleep, and once you awake I'll send your father so he can fall even more in love with you! -She cooed while drying her and starting putting her clothes on.-God, it feels so good to be at home again, no more 'noisy' Mr. Holmes walking heavily in the room above, or Mycroft going in and out at random hours, or all those meetings talking about how everything is out of control.

I was the sixth day since they had went back to their house, every one was at their home now, Mycroft had make sure to get their house, Molly's flat and 221B the safest places in the zone, well relatively safe. So when she had gone into labor and every body loose their mind over it she said out loud that she was not going to have her child living in a house full of mad people, that she wanted to go back home and that was it.

Then everything and everyone moved. Literally, Molly took her things and went back to her flat that same afternoon, Sherlock and Mrs. Hudson went back to Baker Street later that same day, after spending a big part of the afternoon with John at the hospital, in less that she would have thought the safety house was empty. But that was not the only thing that happened those days.

John had been going through the flu, he was still showing some symptoms, he blamed his journey to the night clubs, so when she suddenly informed him that they needed to hurry to the hospital he was a complete mess, feverish, coughing and cleaning his nose every now and then. It was a bit amusing the moment when the nurse told him that if it was going to make him feel better, he should send somebody else or wait until the baby was born; he wasn't going into the room because of his state. He had called Sherlock.

Much to Mary's surprise, although Sherlock had entered the room pale and had tried to stay by the door, the detective stood strong, he was next to her trying to support her and saying the most weird things and random facts, but by the look in his eyes he was probably terrified, she made sure to thank him and ask John to tell her what was it he had promised to make Sherlock go in the room with her. When the baby was born and Mary had let go of him Sherlock walked shakily to the door, but the nurses stopped him, they had been cleaning the baby with wet warm towels, making sure she was healthy and then placed her in his arms and told him that he could go into the next room, and wait for Mary to be taken there in a while.

Mary saw them, only after the doctors make sure she was healthy and fine as well after the birth, in the room, Sherlock, Molly, Mrs. Hudson, and in a corner of the room a highly medicated and covered with a scarf John. There was a nurse there with a hospital cot ready, but it was empty. Of course the women were all crowded around Sherlock that was still holding the baby and smiling in a way she had never seen. John went straight to her when she entered.

-They don't let me near her; they say I'm too sick and don't want her to get infected, why do I have to be sick right now? It's my baby!

-It's not your fault John, your daughter must be the most beautiful charming baby in the world and that's why they all fell in love with her right away, you can't blame them for trying to make sure she stays healthy, you'll have a lifetime to be with her, enough time to get rid of that flu. Now, go tell that ridiculous man to bring me my little girl because I want to meet her too.

John smiled (or at least it seemed like that from behind his scarf) and went straight to the group to call Sherlock. The consulting detective moved slowly, and in a very soft motion with all the care he was able to show (something extremely weird that she was going to bring out whenever he would try to play the rough card) he handed the baby to her. Mary knew that very moment why they were all in love with the baby. Not even the infamous Sherlock Holmes was able to escape the incredible feeling of being in the presence of a new life, full of hope. Just for a moment the world seemed peaceful and hopeful, and all the treats out of that room were forgotten.

Of course that didn't heal John, and with every one moving out of their respective rooms at the safety house it was Sherlock's work to replace John where he needed him. John went to the safety house to collect all their things; Sherlock went back to their house to help Mary. He was the one being called when Mary needed to take sometime for herself, like taking a bath, sleeping for a while or eat, while John made sure to have everything in place. It was a good team, John kept his house clean and provided food, and Sherlock helped to change diapers and feed the baby when Mary was busy (another thing she was going to make sure he never forgets).

Sherlock wasn't complaining, at least not out loud, he was still going to check Mycroft's files and work in the case with the new information they had got from the drug dealers.

The sound of the doorbell took her out of her thoughts; Sophie was already dressed and was slowly getting sleepy in her arms. She placed a pillow in the middle of her bed and placed the now sleeping baby next to it, she couldn't move a lot in the covers she was in, so she wasn't in danger of falling from the bed, but Mary liked to think of that as a support, a way to let her sleep without feeling completely alone.

She then went down the stairs, John and Sherlock were still talking, but she could hear their voices, and the steps moving towards the front door.

-All I'm saying is that you need to slow down a bit or things like this are going to be happening very often in the future. You saw how bad I was last week, with the flu and everything, you might think of yourself as untouchable, but I don't have to remind you about last time you were took to the hospital in an ambulance.

-I know John, I'm not the first person to forget his mobile phone somewhere, and I'm not going to be the last, but it's not going to happen again, just drop it.

-Hello Molly- said John once at the door- come in, please!

Mary hurried down and saw Molly and John going back to the living room.

-Would you like some tea? - asked John

-Yes thanks- said Sherlock while Molly took a seat.

-Yes, thank you John. How's Mary?

-She's… - John looked at her in his way to the kitchen- here actually.

Mary smiled and went into the room; Molly was standing next to the coffee table, with her bag in her hands, looking at Sherlock who was sitting in the couch by the window.

-Hello Molly! It's good to see you! – The two women greeted each other and then Mary excused herself. – Sorry to leave you for a moment, I wanted to know who our visits were, but I just gave my baby girl a bath and I need to change my clothes.

-Take your time Mary, I was hopping to see little Sophie, but I think she must be sleeping, my aunt used to give my cousins a bath before getting them to sleep; she said it was easier that way.

-I am certainly taking advantage of that- said Mary walking again out of the room, before she went out of the room she saw Molly approaching Sherlock and handing him a mobile phone, she couldn't tell if it was Molly's, knowing the man he could have asked her to buy a new one for him, if his was lost…

Later that day John entered the bedroom, he looked up at Mary that was already sitting on the bed, and the bundle in the middle of the bed that was his daughter. He would have liked for her to have her own room, a baby room was something he had imagined himself designing, assembling a cot, painting the walls, but Mary had told him that she didn't want to be away from even if the room was next to theirs, at least not while she was this little, and they had agreed to keep her sleeping with them for a few months.

At least that saved them the "getting up in the middle of the night" part, and it make him feel a stronger connection with the girl, it kept him alert but at the same time helped him sleep at nights.

He started looking for his pajamas. –How was your day dad? - asked Mary with a child like voice putting her hand over the girls head and addressing him, he smiled at "his daughter" question.

-It was fine- he said in a lower voice tone that his usual- I was thinking of writing a blog entry for today's case, but all I can think of writing is how affected Sherlock is by being our "babysitter".

-Why? - asked Mary a bit amused but feeling a bit guilty for abusing her husband's best friend.

-Well, it's not like him you know, to arrived using the same clothes as yesterday, and I told you, he forgot his mobile phone this morning, I never thought he would ever forget it, with his homeless network using that to contact him and Mycroft doing the same it's just awkward for him to leave the phone out of his reach.

-What kind of case was it? Knowing his standards if it was a high level he may have rushed there without thinking twice on getting his phone, or he left it on the charger.

-Yeah, now that you mention it, he could have left it on purpose. But I'm sure he didn't, and I don't think he relies on any standard right now, not if it could be somehow connected with THAT case. - said John placing his street clothes in the laundry basket inside the bathroom.

He reviewed his memories of the day. When Lestrade had called him that morning he said that Sherlock was already on his was, and John supposed that by the moment the DI called him he still had the gadget with him.

Turns out that when he arrived to the crime scene Sherlock wasn't there yet, so he made his way to see what he could work out before "Mr. Impressive Deductions" arrived.

The supposed crime had taken place inside a house, in what seemed like a studio but with enough furniture to make it a second living room. At first sigh John knew that this wasn't a suicide as the police men in front of the house had told him. There was a high shelve full of books and file books arranged by year. A computer over a desk and a pair of loveseats, there was also a TV and a radio, and another shelf with a bunch of CD's and DVD's.

Behind the desk was the victim's body, a woman sitting on the office wheeled chair, with her eyes open looking at the ceiling and a calm expression on her face, she was wearing a formal suit, but the left sleeve was pulled over her elbow and a line of dried blood ran down her arm towards the floor.

Looking closer John could see that there were at least two cuts on her forearm; in her right hand he found a sharp cutter. It could have passed as a suicide, but what gave it away was the mess in the room, there were lots of papers littering the floor, most of them were printed but some of them were apparently blank, as if she had threw them away on purpose.

He was about to go closer to the body to see if he could find anything else to support his "murder" theory when he heard Sherlock's voice.

-… left it somewhere. It's not important now Gideon.

-Greg! - The consulting detective entered the room followed closely by Lestrade, John looked at them, and he couldn't help noticing that Sherlock was wearing the same clothes he had used yesterday, it was something weird given his tendency to wear those suits and look elegant, but today he was even supporting the same stain of baby milk over his chest that Sophie had left on him after being fed by said man and his hair was messier than usual. –What do we have here John?

-I think it's a murder.

-Very good- said Sherlock walking straight to the body; he leaned down a bit to observe it closer, he looked into his pocket and took out an examination glove, carefully he moved the woman's hair of her neck and then looked around, he then moved around the room and looked behind one of the loveseats in the room, he moved to watch under it and pulled something out.

He walked back to where John and Lestrade were standing and showed them a yellow ribbon; it was 12 inches long and a half inch wide, completely out of place, both men looked at him expectantly, and Sherlock sighed exasperated.

-She was being threaten by some one, there's a mark on her neck I think they must have used this, the material leaves a mark different from what a rope would have, whoever it was had her captive, maybe she was forced to make the cuts. There's also a faint trace of tears on her cheeks, she must have been terrified. Who was she?

-According to the records she was a general assistant at the National Archives and Record Administration office.

-Wrong- said Sherlock looking now at the mess on the floor. He lifted one at their feet and looked at the sheet.

-What's that? Has it been pierced with a needle or something?

-Don't be silly, it's Braille! Were any of her acquaintances or relatives blind? Her boss maybe?

-I don't know; I'll make them look. - said the Detective Inspector taking his phone and leaving to make a call.

-There's something weird here John. – said Sherlock walking out the room. John followed him

-What?

-It's this street… It's ringing a bell, but I must have deleted it, I can't remember what it is.

John started laughing, Sherlock looked at him frowning, the doctor just shook his head.

-I wonder where you were last night, I know Mrs. Hudson went to see her family, so I can't rely on her to tell me if you were at Baker Street, but it's obvious you weren't.

-What does that have anything to do with your laughter and my question about this street?

-Well looking at how you are wearing the same as yesterday, the first thing to come to my mind was that you spent the night with somebody else- Sherlock blushed but John didn't notice. – Then you mention the street and the logical answer in my mind is: Janine.

-What did you say?

-Janine! Your "ex-fiancé", Sherlock! – John even made the quotation marks with his hands at that word. - She used to live in this same street before her fifteen minutes of fame. That's why "it's ringing a bell". Mary once asked me to bring her here, when they were about to buy their dresses for the wedding.

Sherlock looked surprised for a moment, and then he shoved his hands in his pockets but only took out a cookie. –For god's sake! - He swore throwing the cookie away and then running down the street to the payphone at the corner.

John followed him, Lestrade and his team were parked there; he went straight to them looking for his wallet.

-Do you have some change?

-Yes, what for? - The DI asked seeing what John wanted.

-That mad man at the payphone. He never carries coins; he says they're too noisy. – In response Sherlock kicked the wall nearby and started muttering something that for once they were glad to not hear.

-Why, did he loose his mobile?

-I don't know. – Said John taking the coins Lestrade had taken from his pocket, John then went to Sherlock and handed him enough coins to make a call.

-What happened to your mobile phone? – John watched as Sherlock dialed and then put the required coins in the machine.

-It was left behind in a hurry.

-You are not sure where you left it. - It wasn't a question.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and turned his back to him before he started talking. –Mycroft. I need information, … for the case I'm currently working with… yes, the address is…

The ex-army doctor walked back over the street, taking his own mobile phone out and dialing the first number in his list.

-* Hello? *

-Hi, Mary, it's me. Listen, can you see if Sherlock's mobile is somewhere around there? He's lost without that thing.

-*I don't think so, but let me check and I'll ring you back. But I can assure you is not here, with the number of calls he gets every day you're daughter wouldn't be able to sleep, and I'm currently enjoying the fourth straight hour of that, I was even able to watch a movie without interruptions!* - At the other end of the line John heard a very particular cry and smiled- *Should have know it. But on schedule, I'll look around and call you back later, okay?*

-Okay, see you later. Love you, bye!

-*Bye!*- said the cheerful voice of his wife and then she hung up.

John turned around to see Sherlock walk towards Lestrade; he hurried to hear what Sherlock had to say about the case.

-It was a murder, you must send a forensic team to get as much evidence as they can from the room and from the body, please tell them to ask Molly to do the postmortem, I would love to stay and find out what other information in regards to the victims work you can find, the thing you mentioned she worked at is not what you said and I need to know if there's anything there, I cannot miss anything this time, but right now I need to go back to Baker Street, also make sure to get me a copy of the file on this case, it's related.

-You really think so? Don't worry, as soon as the forensic team sent their report I'll send it to you via e-mail, with our findings.

Sherlock just nodded and then turned to John. –Come on John, I'm going to need your help. – That being said Sherlock walked straight to John's car, he just sighed and waved at Lestrade who smiled.

Once in the car and on the road to Baker Street, Sherlock started talking.

-Remember that 'Nicola' guy we used as reference to get the drug dealers?

-Mhm…

-Mycroft sent me some things about him, very interesting things.

-Like what?

-He use to be in the army as well, but many years ago, he was accused of betrayal. While trying to find out what kind of betrayal Nicola had committed, my dear brother found himself facing some very suspicious barriers that kept him from knowing the exact truth.

-Wow, I never knew your brother to be troubled by any kind of barriers before. Wasn't he "the government"?

-Sort of, but that's the interesting, for him at least it shouldn't be difficult to drive himself to the information, but none of his "methods" worked this time.

-Which means?

-There's something, John, something or someone trying to hide this information with a very high authority, much higher than Mycroft's, which means it's something really bad and that could bring shame over important people or draw attention to certain things being done by those same people.

-What kind of people has a higher authority than Mycroft?

-That, is what we need to find out. Personally I think it could be some one like Magnussen, which by itself makes the person from outside the country.

Once they arrived to Baker Street they started working, for and hour or so their work continued without interruptions, John was about to take a break and prepare some tea when the door burst open. Sherlock continued reading the papers in front of him like nothing had happened.

-What do you think you're doing? We are working with a highly dangerous case and what do you do? You wouldn't answer your phone!

Sherlock looked up to his angered brother. –And good evening to you to. Did you get the information?

Mycroft frowned at his little brother and handed him a new file, which Sherlock put on the desk before sending his brother his fake smile.

-Thanks, now you can go back to your work, unless you have anything more to say.

Mycroft narrowed his eyes, as if seeing something worrying in the consulting detective. John knew that Mycroft, just as his brother, was able to make accurate deductions with just a glance, he wondered what he could see in his best friend this time.

-You better be careful, bother dear. You're playing with something you don't really know how to handle. - Mycroft looked at his watch and then shook his head. -Also, something about the drug dealers information suggest that the man whose name you used as reference was not really the person itself, he might be working for him using that name to then bring him what he wanted. The original Nicola is somewhere out there, still alive, and my research also indicates that this man became blind just after his "retirement" from the army, some disease.

-It would explain why he needed to send someone to do some things for him, like getting drugs. We need to find him. –Mycroft turned around made a vague gesture towards John and then left.

John stood up. –It's getting late, I was going to make some tea but instead I will ask to come with me, I think my ladies might miss me.

-Only Mary can miss you, little Sophie doesn't know what it's like to miss someone yet. And you've only been away for a few hours; it's not enough to "miss" someone.

-Stop complaining, I know how much you love your goddaughter. Don't try to deny it, I've seen it. – Sherlock lifted his hands in surrender and smiled widely – Now go get your stupid phone from where you left it, I'll wait for you in the car.

John didn't stay to see Sherlock move to his computer, it took him just a minute to send and e-mail and then he went to get his coat and hurried down the stairs.

-Don't worry too much John- said Mary taking him back to reality- Molly gave him his mobile phone back this afternoon.

-Molly?

-Yeah, I saw her, maybe she's finally breaking down Sherlock's barriers, they could end up together at the end of this case.

The moment Molly stood up to leave that evening Sherlock took the opportunity to do the same and waved good bye to John and Mary. Once they were walking down the street Molly started giggling.

-Stop it! – Said Sherlock, but Molly only laughed harder.

-I'm sorry Sherlock, but who would have thought that a simple gadget would turn your day upside down?

-It's your fault. – Molly started giggling again.

-No, it's yours, you've been overworking yourself and that how this happened.

Sherlock looked away from her, it was true, in fact he had been really busy since the day they had gone to find the drug dealers, and with Sophie's birth and him working on the case and babysitting it was hard for him to find a way to relax for a while or get at least some hours of sleep.

The day before his intention was only to visit Molly and ask her to go and help Mary so he could get himself some rest, but for something happened the moment he entered her flat and saw her sitting on her couch watching some TV.

Before he knew it he was laying on her couch in a very strange position. He could hear Molly moving around her bedroom, he sat down trying to clear his head, he felt light headed; a minute later she was by his side again, with a cover and a pillow.

-Thank god! Sherlock you freaked me out, what happened?

-I am not sure- he said with a tired voice.

-You're exhausted! I bet you haven't slept in more than a week. Now, - she said putting the pillow at the end of the couch- take off your shoes and lay down again.

-Why would I do that?

-Because, you need to sleep, I don't want you to pass out again somewhere else, you're really heavy, and I almost hurt my back carrying you to the couch! Believe me: no one is going to do that again for you if they have the choice to leave you on the floor.

-You could have left me there too.

-But I didn't, of course if you ask me, next time you'll wake up where ever you manage land.

Sherlock smiled, he looked at the cover in Molly's hands and reached out to take it.

-I wanted to ask you something, - he said looking at the floor- I was really going to use tomorrow to rest a bit, and I wanted to ask you to go and visit Mary since she's being asking me to help her with the baby. It really is irrelevant now, because I'm sure you are not letting me go anywhere after that scene. Sorry you had to see that.

He then bent to undo his shoes slowly, he was really tired; he couldn't even work out his ideas in the sarcastic or condescending way he always used, so he decided to do as he was told this time and got himself comfortable on the couch and closed his eyes.

-I thought you were going to take my bed like the last time, I really was expecting to argue with you about that.

-Not today, I'm too tired; I'll find something to argue with you in the morning- he said before falling asleep.

He heard Molly giggle a bit and then her soft steps leading to her bedroom. In what seemed like a second later he heard his phone ring tone go off, and he jumped startled before reaching for the gadget inside his jacket.

-Hello- he said with a very sleepy voice, followed by a wide yawn.

-* Sherlock, it's me Greg*

-Don't play games with me Lestrade.

-* Listen, there's a case where I need your help, can you please come here as soon as possible.*

-I'm on my way- he said standing up and stretching himself, he looked around, outside the sun was already rising, he looked at his phone and confirmed that he had slept all night.

-Morning! – Said Molly walking out of her kitchen with a cup of tea and some cookies. – I heard you woke up, I know you're leaving but I'm not letting you go with out some breakfast.

Sherlock was about to argue with her about that when his stomach growled. He often skipped breakfast by hiding that kind of reactions from the others with street sounds or while saying something clever, but Molly's flat was always a very quiet place, and she had heard him.

So he sighed and looked at the ceiling. – I didn't mean for that to happen. – Molly was smiling, seemingly very amused.

-I'm going to the bathroom first, I'll drank the tea and take some cookies for the road.

Before she could say anything else he went straight to the bathroom, leaving his mobile phone over the coffee table.

When he returned Molly was eating a cookie. He sat down next to her, he put his shoes back on and drank the cup of tea in one go, he then took some cookies from the plate and shoved them in his pocket, without thinking he then leaned towards Molly and kissed her…

They parted away surprised, staring at each other for a moment, but then Molly pulled him back and kissed him again, unlike their first very chaste kisses, this kiss became passionate quickly, and Sherlock found himself responding eagerly.

A few seconds later they parted away again, and without saying another word Sherlock stood up and was out of the flat, his mobile phone still on the table.

-Well, at least nobody knew it was at your place, thank you for not answering the phone Molly.

-It was hard not to, it rang at least a hundred times, I was curious to hear what kind of reaction they'll have

-Molly, I was thinking, this thing, between us. They are going to find out, eventually.

-Oh, so there IS really something between us. Is it wrong if they find out?

-No, it's just that, I was thinking. It would be fun to see how long it takes them to discover it.

-Want to make a bet or something like that?

-It's not a bad idea. Would you?


	4. Harmony

**This chapter turned out to be a little darker than expected; I assure you the case is working itself in my mind, the fact that I'm also reading one of Sir Conan Doyle's book is not helping the issue, I've been doing some research (not much really, but enough to work under reasonable facts).**

**But don't worry, I promise to improve the Sherlolly a bit after this chapter, things are "narrowing down" with every chapter. Thanks for reviewing, please keep doing so, I will try to answer your reviews in future chapters, there was one about Mycroft being suspicious about Molly and Sherlock last time, read and find out if he knows. This time I couldn't find a good excuse, not for lack of looking, but I could do with some suggestions, the title is regarding the interaction.**

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**4. - Harmony**

Molly's face while asleep was so calm; it almost seemed like a porcelain mask with the little light in the room at this time at night. Her eyelashes were not longer than his, but they had that curly quality that made her eyes look as if she were wearing mascara, and he knew she only used that when she was getting ready for a party or an important appointment; her mouth was little, with those thin pink-plum colored lips, something he had noticed and pointed out before, what he never said about them was his fascination with them, he couldn't stop thinking on how it was for her to have lips that thin, it must be weird, other people had fuller and bigger lips, he didn't knew any other person with lips like hers, anyhow, her lips had that lovely "kiss" shape, the one that he had seen many times on the street with that inaccurate image of a heart for that particular day that meant reunions and chocolates and unnecessary waste of money, and … ugh.

He stopped himself from chuckling at the irony; he didn't want to wake her up, her day had been awful and she deserved to rest. Her lips, the one thing that had taken him from shock to elation in barely two seconds, since that day she had pressed them to his for the first time; he had been shocked of course, at first, but then everything seemed to fade around him, and the only things in his mind were the warmth of her body next to him, the slightly sticky texture of her lips, and the flavor. He should feel ashamed of falling for something so simple, but he had been kissed before and it never felt like with Molly, the world didn't fade away, the heat didn't reach his cheeks, and the electric pulse that caused him goosebumps after that brief contact was new to him.

Then, the second time, she wasn't wearing any lip gloss, and it had been him the one to initiate contact, surprisingly enough the effect was the same, but the texture was another thing, her lips were so soft, it had taken him more self-control to move away, somehow the little pain on his jaw reminded him that he was still upset with her, or at least that he was supposed to be upset, other thing he had reacted at was that forced and (terribly) acted hug behind the night club, her light kisses on his face, the subtle friction of her leg… she was dangerous to him. The next time his actions had caught him by surprise; he had reflected, and to be a genius making deductions, the only answer to why he had kissed her that day was that it was a subconscious response.

He had been thinking about her, more than he used to think about anyone, the reaction he had suffered after every one of those encounters had him wondering how it was possible that John or even Lestrade hadn't noticed his distraction with the case. Because he was distracted, Mycroft noticed though, it made him angry to think that such an important case was being delayed because of his sudden infatuation with Molly's lips. The things that had happened that week were the definite prove.

He wasn't sure if he really wanted a relationship with her, but his curiosity had led him to give it a try and see if those who said they knew him well were able to notice the change in his interaction with the pathologist, of course today had proved that wanted or not the relationship was pretty par of his life now. So far John was unaware, Lestrade was miles away from knowing anything, and although Mycroft suspected something, he couldn't be sure, and Sherlock knew his tactics too well to let any kind of information slip. Mycroft may be clever, but he didn't knew anything unless he gave him information with a gesture, a word or a look, his brother was as observant as him, but he was going to beat him at his own game for once.

He looked up at his room, the clock on his bedside table told him it was still early in the morning, two or three hours of sleep wouldn't hurt, so he leaned his head on the pillow and closed his eyes. The last two weeks had been very hard.

The day after founding the body of Circe Lawrence in that building he had went to the hospital to find out if there was anything more to know about her death, Molly was there of course, Lestrade and John joined them a while later, the first bringing the information Sherlock had asked him to look for the day before.

Just by entering the morgue the two men looked at each other in a bit of surprise. Molly was dressed in her usual lab coat and ponytail, with gloves and ready to work on the body she had just prepared for the autopsy, that was the normal bit, next to her, wearing a lab coat and a pair of gloves as well was Sherlock, looking at the report that Molly was supposed to fill with the corpse information.

Lestrade was about to speak when Molly made the first cut over the chest of the poor woman, he turned pale and looked at John, who shook his head and gestured him to sit at the end of the room to see the files.

-I would appreciate it if you read aloud what's in that file- said Sherlock without taking his eyes from Molly's work.

John cleared his throat and said- Keep working, I'll speak aloud if there's something relevant you need to know.

-No. You do as I said. –John looked at him annoyed only to see Molly giving Sherlock very much the same look. –Please!

And with that they started working again. John and Lestrade however kept their eyes on the other pair; the obvious harmony in their work seemed almost choreographed. Sherlock moved along the table and took a needle connected to and essay tube, and handed it to Molly; she hadn't stopped her work, and didn't even look up to take the tube when Sherlock handed it to her and extracted a blood sample (a little one since the woman had lost a good amount while dying). Sherlock then took the tube with him and started the machine to get the toxicology information from the blood.

-She's the most interesting woman I never knew from what you're saying John- the mentioned man jumped a little and then turned around to look at the papers in the file. It took the DI another moment to lift his eyes from the consulting detective and move them to the file.

-Well to start, she wasn't an assistant, she was the manager of her section at the Archives and Record Administration, she is in charge of the arrangement of the citizens files, she also get the new ones to the respective place, she has the track record of every person that's ever been to prison, or win a medal at the Olympics, wrote a book or made any important contribution to the country.

-Basically the person in charge of getting the current History of the country in the straightest line as possible- said John.

-How could you get that wrong yesterday? - said Sherlock giving Molly a pair of goggles and putting a pair on himself, getting ready to cut the ribcage to see the organs underneath. –It's by now the most important piece of information!

-Bu…- Lestrade turned pale again at the sound of the saw and bone being cut, he managed to turn around again and looked at the papers, speaking loudly in an attempt to muffle the sound.- Also there was this… friend of hers that used to go visit her often. It's her accountant, the woman must be rich because she lives outside the country with her husband, and she used to come and visit almost every two weeks. I got information about her too, just in case.

-Where does the accountant lives? - asked John in the same loud voice while reading down the page.

-France, it's not really far, but if you want to make the round trip every two weeks or so you must have good money.

The sound stopped and John and a very pale DI looked back to them, almost jumping out of their seats next to the table they were using,, there were some new blood splattering over their lab coats, when Molly moved her hand to take a hold of the bones. John was able to stay there with not much trouble, he had seen those things while he was studying, but he was sure that Lestrade was not really used to see a body being opened and studied the way Molly did, other than see bloody crime scenes in his work. The impression was proving to be harder for him to stand, and he didn't want him to faint or throw up.

-Listen, we're going out to get some coffee, I think Greg needs some fresh air also. Would you like something?

-No, thanks- said Molly and Sherlock at the same time.

John watched them share a smile before walking towards the door followed by a slightly green DI. Sherlock helped Molly remove the bone barrier from the body so she could start working with the organs below. Letting her do the work she did better, Sherlock walked back to the machine where he had left the a big part of the blood sample, the machine was still running and making beeping noises every now and then, but he ignored it and took the last drop of the sample in the tube.

It was almost nothing, but enough for him to make a little experiment, he was suspicious of course, about something that seemed off in the death woman the day before. So he made his way to the usual microscope he always used, then turned to the supply shelve in the room and looked for the exact substance he was going to use in his search for an specific chemical reaction.

Molly looked at him curious, he left his instruments near the microscope and went to her to give her a quick kiss on the cheek, and she just smiled and let him do as he pleased.

Hurrying back to the microscope, Sherlock took a Petri dish and placed the blood on it, he then placed the sample under the microscope and made some quick notes about its properties on a paper, and then he poured a drop of the chemical he had taken from the shelve. He wasn't surprised to see it react, creating an effervescent reaction and proving his theory right. When it died away he placed the Petri dish again under the microscope and wrote new notes on the paper.

Just then the machine beeped loudly, and he returned there with a huge smile on his face, to take the report from the machine, a little glance to the page just proved his experiment right again. Without saying a word he strolled to the table towards Molly and showed her the toxicology report, she looked at him with wide eyes.

John was the one to return to the morgue a little later, -Greg is still out there, but he fear he is going to be sick if he stays during the whole autopsy so I'll just text him when you're done.- He looked at the still smiling Sherlock, and then to Molly who was reading a paper.

-Did you find something? – Sherlock took the paper from Molly's fingers and then handed it to John.

-Look at it carefully and tell me if I'm wrong. - Sherlock then moved to the body and using it to give more effect to his display of deductions. – Yesterday when we arrived to the crime scene Miss Lawrence was sitting in her chair, with a cutter in one hand a some cuts on the others that at first sight suggested suicide, then I found the yellow ribbon which in that moment confirmed that this was a murder and she had been asphyxiated with it. Also there where all those papers on the floor, so we knew the murderer was looking for information, what we didn't know is what kind of information they needed or how they got it.

John looked alarmed at his friend's happiness over the facts.

-Anybody could have thought that they took some of her files, messed her office and expect no one to notice some of them were missing…

-There were missing files; Lestrade's team had it in the report…

-… but that's is really too obvious,- said Sherlock continuing as if John hadn't interrupted him,- no, they drugged her, they were not only looking for the information in her house, she worked in a place full of information, she knew special codes to get to the most specific and secret information of the country, all that information has to be protected of course, or my brother would have been able to just go through their vaults and get all the information we still need about that man called Nicola.

What was that drug? Special K of course, and come on John look at the file,- annoyed John took the file from the table he had left it at,- Miss Lawrence accountant is of course a woman with money, she had gained it herself, Lawrence is not her only client, but what does her husband works at? He is a vet, most certainly a vet with a surgery room and he uses the Special K with his "patients".

-How is that relevant? - This time it was Molly the one who answered John's question.

-The Special K or Ketamin is an anesthetic and hallucinogenic drug, it's not used often in humans, only in kids, but that's not the point, some doses of Special K were used in the past to get information, it's also called "the truth serum". – John was about to speak when Molly stopped him,- I know it's been proved that it's not possible to know if the patient is saying the truth, but for a civilian, someone just looking for information it would be easy to use what they have at hand, I think it's a very possible theory.

-It would explain why she was looking at the ceiling, most of the people that commit suicide are always looking at the floor with all the depressive thoughts and stuff, but if she was having some kind of hallucination induced by the drug then her mind would wonder and made her even easier to threaten. Maybe the murderer only used the ribbon to "finish the job", in the state she was in there was no struggle.

-The cuts at her wrists were done a little bit after the death, or while she was dying so the marks look fresh enough to be confused. – Added Molly.

-Sherlock, as mad and possible as you're theory is, we don't know if that woman was even in the country yesterday, or if she's even aware of it, that kind of drugs can't be brought from France to the UK by plane or ship, the use of Special K is restricted.

-Maybe she has a pet- said Molly trying to help.

-Yes, yes, maybe- said Sherlock his face serious still processing what John had said- But the husband could be granted a permission because of his profession, … but the Braille pages on the floor… it could be someone else, there are too many connections, someone very intelligent must be behind it.

-Sherlock, I don't think…

-Shut up! - shouted Sherlock, placing a hand to his forehead.

Sherlock started pacing the room back and forth, probably in his mind palace trying to find what he was missing.

-Call Lestrade back, I need to speak to him now! – Sherlock then walked to where his coat was hanging and changed back in it, leaving the lab coat over a table.- Take the files and head back up, I need fresh air- said Sherlock to John, the doctor left the room as soon as possible, only stopping to connect the call to the DI.

Sherlock then walked towards Molly and kissed her deeply; - Call me if you find anything at all in that body, or if anything suspicious arises. –Molly nodded and then Sherlock left.

Whoever was the mastermind behind this was making things difficult with every step, Sherlock was starting to feel frustrated, unable to narrow down enough information and overwhelmed with one wave of emotion over another, and his distraction was potentially lethal if he couldn't manage to get everything under control soon. He was a master of his feelings; he shouldn't be feeling any of this, why was he having trouble at all right now?

But of course little Sophie had that innate gift to make him feel in a way he could only think John felt at the same circumstances, with the little girl in his sleeping soundly in his arms and looking so damn adorable. Mycroft will have so much material to mock him if he ever knew.

When the three men had arrived to Baker Street they found Mary and Mrs. Hudson talking in his living room, they had of course tried to keep working on the case, but with Mrs. Hudson asking if they would like something to eat, and with Lestrade looking uneasy for being to near the baby the case was soon left aside.

So after a light meal and some "baby" conversation with Mary, Sherlock was once again out of his element. He had knew from the beginning that the chances of him being the godfather of Sophia Watson were high, but just after Lestrade made a reference about why they hadn't used their names to name their daughter after and after a fit of laughing (really what was so funny about 'Mary Jane Watson') that he hadn't understand, Mary officially asked him. Of course he had grown very fond of the girl, maybe since the very moment she was placed in his arms on her birth day. But he would have understood if they chose a more responsible person.

And then Lestrade's phone rang, at the same moment as Sherlock's. If Sherlock had been feeling overwhelmed with all the confusing feelings Molly, Sophie and the case were throwing at him, this could have broke him. It took only enough time to give the sleeping baby to her mother, before Lestrade and Sherlock rushed down the stairs with John running to catch up with them.

Without saying a word they got back in Lestrade's car and moved through the city towards the hospital. John had tried to get Sherlock to tell him what was happening, but once they were at the hospital Sherlock rushed through the gates leaving Lestrade and John in the car.

-What just happened? - asked John.

-Mycroft has been attacked.

-What!? Why..!? How…!?- John couldn't believe what was happening.

-That's what I would like to know. The man seems untouchable, this is unheard of.

They then went to find Sherlock, who was actually speaking to his parents on the phone. Mycroft's assistant Anthea was sitting on a chair, looking pale and shocked.

-I don't know! They brought him directly into surgery, they said he was badly beaten up…Yes, please don't worry. I'll call you back if anything happens. … Of course, mine's or Mycroft's, but if you want there's also the safe house… Right, bye!

-What happened?

-They are not sure, Anthea here was the one to call the ambulance, she found him in his office, somebody sneaked up and beat him, they're making a surgery, apparently whoever did this hit his head badly and the doctors fear some sort of damage to his brain. Also they're going to work some broken ribs and bones.

-Who could have done this?

-I don't know but this is moving faster than what I expected. My parents are coming to see him; they might stay at Baker Street…

-No…- said Anthea reacting for the first time, her voice low and calm. Sherlock turned to look at her- I'm going to make the necessary arrangements so they can stay at the safe house you were at, I don't think Mycroft's is safe enough after this, and Baker Street is very small. No, leave it to me.

The next few days were filled with constant trips to the hospital, Sherlock's parents were worried about their oldest son being harmed in that way, but John sensed something odd about the three Holmes every time they talked about the possible reasons behind the attack, as if there were something only they knew. After they met Mary and Sophie it was clear where Sherlock's manners with babies had come from, Mommy Holmes was the personification of the loveliest grandmother in the world; it almost made John feel sorry that none of her children would give her grandkids any time soon.

Sherlock started spending more time at the morgue, he knew the case was being neglected once again, but his mind wouldn't focus. There was something weird about this case, everything they were working at just seemed to have more and more suspect lines, never leading to something clear.

So far Sherlock suspected that Nicola worked for this "mastermind", he had been used to deliver the message, it was imperative to find him; the additional security he had suggested to the Archives and Record Administration was in place and nothing out of place had been reported, but what kind of information was "he" looking for? And how was it possible for "him" to go through Mycroft's security and getting him so easily out of the way? It was of course someone trying to get to him (Sherlock), involved with Moriarty and Magnussen, but why? What was the real purpose behind all this? Who hated him that much?

No long after Mycroft's attack, Sherlock asked Anthea to double the security that Mycroft had put at Baker Street, John's house and Molly's flat, Mycroft had been unconscious for at least two days by medical orders, and during that time the loyal assistant of his brother had took him as the second in charge. Once he woke up Mycroft had stayed in silence, it was weird; Sherlock had never seen his brother like this. But by the way he looked at him every time he visited there was something important that his brother wasn't telling him.

It was after a very exhausting day that Sherlock received a call from Molly, the expression on his face might have give something out, because when John looked at him, he just stood up and walked to the car without asking. Lestrade was already there when they arrived, and the angry look on the Detective's face was a bit upsetting.

-Sherlock do you happen to remember the name of Molly's stupid ex-fiancé?

-Why?

-That…! Well you must see for yourself, poor Molly she's been crying for hours.

They entered Molly's flat at that moment, a terrible smell filled their noses, and Sherlock knew what happened after a quick glance to the room. There was a small box on the floor, he approached it and gave a quick glance at the content, he then looked at Molly, who was hugging her cat tightly and crying silently on her sofa.

-She said it was already inside the apartment when she arrived, she wasn't going to open it because of the smell, but when she tried to kick it out and call us it moved, that man is sick, sending her something like that, if her cat hadn't got into the house when we arrived she might become hysterical.

-How do you know it was him?

-There was a note. –Sherlock nodded and went to the sofa, Molly looked up at him, let her cat go and launched herself into his arms and started crying again. John approached them and patted Molly's back.

-Calm down Molly- said Lestrade from behind them- I'm going to make him pay for this.

-You should take her to Baker Street tonight Sherlock; this was a nasty bad joke. – Said John, Sherlock nodded and then took Molly out of the room. - I'll tell Mary to get her some clothes later- John said now looking at Lestrade.

-Yes of course, we will clean this up and she'll be able to come without seeing this, we're almost done with the report.

After that they had returned to Baker Street, Molly was still sobbing and hiccupping while petting Toby, her cat. This had been a low blow from Tom; still Sherlock wondered what had he done to get through the security around Molly. Mrs. Hudson had gave her a cup of tea and talked to her. Later John and Mary brought her some clothes and asked her if she knew a reason why her ex-fiancé would do such a thing. Sherlock was deep in thought and didn't participate much, but when finally every one left he went to her.

-Uhm… are you going to be ok? - He asked feeling uncertain at what to say to comfort her. She looked at him, he eyes still red for being crying. He sat next to her in the couch, and she automatically snuggled next to him, he sighed and placed his arms around her.

-It was a little cat you know?- She said after a while- He must have had it with him for some days, the infection it had was really bad- she started sobbing again. –Why would he do something like that? All its beautiful fur was completely gone! – She starting crying again, Sherlock just brought her closer to him. – I thought it was Toby.

-It's good then that at the end it wasn't him… ouch! - Molly had punched his arm; she lifted her gaze at him, tears still flowing from her eyes.

-It didn't need to be him, though I'm glad about that, it was something horrible to do, he knew how much I came to like cats, and he did this just because he's heartbroken.

-Why did you two break up? I never asked.

-It doesn't matter now. – They spend a few more minutes like that before Molly yawned.

-Come on, we can share my bed tonight, and I promise not to take advantage of it. - She chuckled at this, and then they stood up and went to Sherlock's room.

After changing in their pajamas and under the covers Molly snuggled again next to him, thinking that it was a good idea he kissed her forehead, she looked up at him and moved to kiss him. He responded instantly and deepened the kiss, his hands running up and down her back, while her hands were buried in his hair. They kept kissing for a while, enjoying the feeling of being able to do that without having to worry about anything else until morning.

When the kiss ended Sherlock hugged her, placing his hands on her waist and breathing heavily; she drifted off a moment later, her hands on his sides and her head on his chest; but he remained awake, his mind finally working properly. Somehow with Molly there he was able to place his feelings on her and his mind to work, and it made it easier for him to work out part of the data he already had into something useful at least. It was her, he thought, he always worked better with her, in perfect harmony.

Some hours later he found himself staring at her, his Molly.


	5. Molly's day

**Hello, this is a shorter chapter, but it's a lot more 'fluff' that the previous, I'm trying to drive this relationship through the gentle path, slowly and romantic, it's not really my stuff, I'm sure you know that by now, but it's going to work… I hope so.**

**Thanks for your reviews (5! … 5…) I'm taking that silence as a sign that there's no complains about the story and the wicked way it is developing, still you know you can let me know about anything you might want to comment: the grammar and spelling, the case, any suggestion… Thank you, again, very much for reading, it makes me so happy! (T-T) Also I'm kind of having some ideas lately, prove of it is "A huge secret to keep" (it has already two chapters: that was fast; it's in the crossover section, if you like TBBT and HP you're welcome to read), so if for some reason my updating starts to delay you can blame those ideas, but since this is "The Fic That Started All" I'm not letting it unfinished. Here you are. Chapter 5.**

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5. - Molly's day

The personal blog of Doctor John H. Watson:

…_I'm sitting at the corner of the room with the DI because in our current situation, I'm still a bit worried, but I'm sure it's nothing I can't handle, he's also been in a situation like this before._

_I think he might be dreaming, he keeps repeating a word that I cannot understand, he might be saying 'Moriarty' or something of the sort, he keeps mumbling "Mo…(something)y…", also the rash skin I found on his neck end a little bit under his shirt, one of them looks older, like a bruise, if I didn't knew him I would say it's a hickey. But this is Sherlock I'm talking about._

_We were back at Ms. Lawrence's house a while ago, and there are still many things out of place that I cannot really connect with the case, maybe it's because of the fatherhood as Sherlock says, mi mind keep drifting towards my beautiful girl; looking back at it, the dart that caused Sherlock unconsciousness may have been intended to hit our victim. _

That was more or less what he was thinking to write in his blog when he arrived home. John turned to see the unconscious man that was his best friend over the couch, he seemed to be stirring from the sedative that had hit him when entering Ms. Lawrence's bedroom in a further investigation. The attorney that was in charge of her things had given them permission to see if any of the information that was still in the house helped with the case before allowing the family to take care of Ms. Lawrence belongings, and while looking for it Sherlock had found himself caught in the tramp.

The day after what happened to Molly had been a very busy day, for some reason Sherlock managed to arrive late again that time, they had gone to look for Tom to tell him some things about his choices of 'gifts' to innocent ex-girlfriends, only to find out that his landlord hadn't heard of him in a week or so, and his boss had fired him because of his absence for the same time, in fact no one near the man had heard of him for a while, something that made the problem displayed at Molly's a bit more weird.

Donovan that had taken the case to work with argued that the man had lost his mind because of the heartbreak and that had led him to insanity, she had moved some people into looking for him in the streets and making some posters advising people to be careful and call the police if they ever saw him. Sherlock had argued with her loudly because of that, he thought that there was something else instead of a poor and unstable minded man, but John was sure that Sherlock was making all this fuss because he cared for Molly, something that he had been using to mock him every now and then since he learned Molly helped him to fake his death and Sherlock had managed to just ignore him every time he did.

Of course it seemed like it had been Molly Hooper's day during the whole morning, but John attributed it to Molly staying at Baker Street. With Mycroft still in the hospital Lestrade, John and Sherlock had found many difficulties to speak to the appropriate people, it was amazing the number of things that Mycroft manipulated to make easier his little brother's life.

The sound of the door opening startled him out of his thoughts as Molly entered the living room, she was still staying at Baker Street, she had told them she was planning in going back to her flat on her day off, it was still quite surprising to see her so at ease around Sherlock. But he and Lestrade had been talking and it seemed logical that she were able to handle the man since the last time she had put him in place before going to the clubs.

-Hey Molly- said Lestrade standing up from the couch where he was sitting; - I was waiting for you to arrive, that way I don't have to leave John alone.

-What happened? - said Molly watching Sherlock with worry.

-Nothing serious, he was sedated, it could be a blessing if only he wasn't that heavy, and he's recovering all ready. - Said John standing up as well.

-I'll help you move him John- said Lestrade.- We were waiting for you Molly to move him out of the living without messing around, I don't know where you are staying, but if you could clear the way to his room it would be lovely.

-Yes, right! - said Molly hurrying up to Sherlock's room and moving some of the things in the hallway and in the room out of the way. John and Lestrade entered the room holding Sherlock with his arms around their shoulders. John noticed some of Molly's clothes in the room but didn't mind it at the moment, busy trying to lay Sherlock down without leaving his feet hanging from the edge of the mattress.

Lestrade then excused himself and left. After talking a while of what had happened during the day and eating dinner with Mrs. Hudson, John left too. He told Molly that Sherlock might wake up in a few hours, and told her to call if he were to feel sick. Later that night John did thought it was weird of Molly to leave her clothes at Sherlock's room, but he attached it to his friend to try and piss of Molly by doing that.

Molly was drinking a cup of tea and reading John's blog on her laptop screen in the kitchen when she heard Sherlock move in the room, the subtle sounds of the shower in the bathroom told her that he was up already. She smiled, thinking of his sleep talking habit, he might not be very fluid while asleep, not that he did it that often, but he sure had the most interesting dreams.

She had waked up the morning after Tom sent her that disgusting box to the voice of Sherlock saying something, but she couldn't tell what he was saying. Taking full advantage of this interesting moment to cuddle herself a little bit more in between his arms, to her surprise the moment she moved his arms curled around her back and he rolled himself over her while she giggled.

-Good morning- he said looking at her with sleepy eyes and kissing her nose. - Are you feeling better today?

-Actually a little bit crashed- she said feigning a breathless voice- but I could get used to it. – He smiled and then rolled off of her.

-Molly, we have to do something about this. – That caught her by surprised, what was he talking about? - They should have noticed something by now, they can't be so clueless.

-Have you heard them say anything about us? - She said knowing now what he was thinking about.

-Nope- he said popping the 'p'- And I think it's going to get boring if they don't start noticing something soon.

-And how are you planning to let them know without taking this to the light?

-I'm still not sure- he said rolling in his side and resting his head over her stomach, Molly moved her arms so her hands could caress his dark curly amazing hair. –It's hard to give a name to this thing I'm feeling for you Molly, I'm still not quite sure what it is, but I'm not letting you go until I know for sure. Also I kind of enjoy having you here.

-Maybe I should wear one of your shirts one of this days, - said Molly, maybe it was still very early in the morning and their minds were not working properly.

-Why?

-They would notice it's your shirt, and they would then start to wonder.

-No, you wearing my shirt is like kissing you in front of them, too easy. They need a challenge.

-I could give you a hickey…

-Mmh… while I'm not opposed to that, I think it's just like shirt thing. And for the record- he said lifting his head- I am also giving you a hickey today. – He then moved over her and stopped right over her face, looking at her eyes. – But first, I'm going to kiss you- and he leaned down kissing her sweetly at first, but just like the last time the kiss deepened, their hands started roaming each other body, and has it not been for Mrs. Hudson's voice talking to Toby things would have escalated, so they had to get off the bed with only the marks they had promised to each other.

Later that day Sherlock had left to take care of the case and Molly had gone to work with a wide smile on her face. The sound of the shower going of a few minutes later told her that she was about to know for sure what had happened during the day that had rendered him literally unconscious all evening.

Yawning and still wobbling a little he entered the Kitchen and dropped himself in the chair next to her. He looked at her and something flashed in his eyes, as if he suddenly remembered something, he then started looking in the few pockets of his pajamas.

-Your coat is in the living room, and I'm sure you still remember where you take your clothes off. - She said preparing a cup of tea for him.

-I…I. Sorry- he cleared his throat- I have something for you. –He made to stand up but sited right back- I think I might still be …

-Yes, I understand. It can wait, thank you for thinking about me, you shouldn't have bought anything. –He took the cup from her hands and sipped the tea to hide his subtle blush.

-It's John fault, he stopped in front this shop in the city and started talking about how much he would like to buy something for Sophie and all that nonsense, so I kinda pick something and bought it without him knowing.

-So, he trying to buy something for his daughter is nonsense, but if you buy something for me then it's perfectly understandable.

-Pretty much.

-Ok, now are you going to tell me why John and Greg brought you here in that state?

-I would really like to, but I can't explain why they act that way, what I can tell you is what I remember before waking up in my bed a while ago.- Molly leaned over the table and looked at him, he emptied his cup and then held it in front of her with a smirk. – Coffee, please. Black, two sugars.

She frowned and took the cup from his hand, Sherlock then started speaking while she prepared the coffee.

-As you remember the other day we finally contacted Lawrence's accountant, she asked us to make an appointment to see her later because she was actually still in the city and was busy. –He said that last word with dramatic emphasis- That delayed us a while, but fortunately she had little to say. She was here, as usual, to work with her clients, and she showed authentically surprised by the notice of Lawrence's death.

It seemed as well that Molly had been right at suggesting that she had a pet, something he had pointed out at the moment, because she couldn't let go of her dog during the whole interrogation, she told them that apart from her only their housekeeper had family in this country, and that he visited only every four months. Of course his visit had coincided with hers this time, and after leaving him with his family in the airport she had gone to work as she usually did.

She mentioned that the family of the man was quite out of place and didn't look at all like part of his family, but she hadn't asked questions. And when Sherlock had asked for more information about this man she had told him something very unusual.

The man was blind. They had other people working for them too, but this man had a trained dog as a companion, part of his contract gave his dog personal attention from her husband, and the man had enough responsibilities for someone of his condition. Also there was the fact that the family member that had picked him up at the airport looked in words of the accountant "like" him: thin, tall, curly hair. And somehow that brought the casual mention that Molly would have fancy him.

After that Lestrade had called to tell them that the family lawyer of Miss Circe Lawrence was going to return her belongings to her family meaning the police needed to close the investigation inside the house, and if they wanted to make a further research of the place before that they had to hurry.

That took them back to the crime scene. They were few minutes of walking away from the place when Janine approached them walking towards them in the street. She spoke to John first about his married life and the latest addition to his family with Sophie's birth.

-Really very happy!- Was saying John with a proud smile on his face- Sherlock is going to be her godfather, I'll tell Mary to call you if we decide to make a little celebration.

-Oh, that would be lovely John- said Janine looking at Sherlock. –Maybe I could share the honor again with your 'best man'.

-Thought you would never want to share anything with me again, – said Sherlock watching the obvious signs of flirtation on Janine, - since our engagement ended before it started.

-Well yes, I did met that guy at John's weeding, the one that was complaining about a fork stab and was actually rethinking his marriage proposal to one of your friends.

-You met Tom? Molly's ex-fiancé? He did something terrible to her.

-Yes, we became friends during the wedding, - said Janine ignoring the 'terrible thing' part- and then we talked a lot after you and I split up. You know: sorta same boat. But thinking about him right now, I can't really remember when the last time we spoke was. It's been like a month or so, can't really tell.

-He's gone missing.- said John- A few days ago we needed to talk with him, but it's as if the earth swallowed him, he's no where to be found.

-Oh, really? - said Janine in a sarcastic tone.

-Do you know where he could be?

-Nah, not really. – Said Janine chuckling a little and then looking at them as if in surprise, this time being serious- It's not a joke then, he seriously disappeared. I hope he's fine, he was a good man. Is he in some kind of trouble or something?

-He might be- said Sherlock looking at Janine with his deducting gaze, suspicious of something.

-Well that's not good then- said Janine looking at her feet. – Could you please tell Mary to call me if you find him? I would really like to know where this ends.

-Sure- said John, and then Janine gave them both a kiss on the cheek and walked away. –That was weird- said John now turning around and looking at the store next to them. – Hey Sherlock, would you mind if I go inside this store? Sophie is growing really fast and I want to buy her something while she's still in her first month of life.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and nodded, entering the store just behind his best friend. The store was dedicated to sell 'girly' things, from earrings, bracelets, make up and some other oddities, like wand shaped pens with glitter and sometimes led lighters, he had no idea what those things had that appeal to girls. Everything was 'too pink'.

John walked around and picked some thinks that for Sherlock looked like appropriate items for a baby, and while the girl attending the store talked to John about other things he would like Sherlock fixed his eyes in the counter in front of him. There they had fantasy jewelry, and some pieces that looked like genuine pieces of silver and gold, those where a bit more expensive. He had never saw Molly wearing anything like that for casual occasions, and her work of course was not really something that should be handled with the inconvenience of a ring.

His eyes landed on a necklace, the chain was short but it was made of silver for the brief stain that had formed in between links, the pendant was a crystal violin, it was well shaped and it was little, a single line of metal had been used to look like the strings in the tiny instrument, he knew he could buy something so much better in a good jewelry, but for some unknown reason he liked it, , so he gestured to the girl, that had placed a full line of baby headbands in front of John, to stand next to him, and then he signaled the necklace and handed her the money, mouthing something like "my surprise gift" to her so that she wouldn't let John know about it, the woman nodded knowingly, and took the necklace with her. After John made his choice and was about to leave with a small bag under his arm, the woman placed a little red box in his hand and waved them goodbye.

Back in the road to the house, where Lestrade gave them the details of the places where his team had already made the clearance for the lawyer, he told them to give a good look around and take note of anything that could give them more information.

And that's how they had started wandering the house, taking note of anything out of place, even the papers that had been on the floor that day where now in a bag ready to be sent to Lestrade's office. Sherlock was the first to move upstairs, since the incident had taken place in the floor below nobody had thought that there would be something of importance upstairs. The first to room where fine, the bathroom and the guest's room, and then the main bedroom, Sherlock quickly took note of the door half open, and walked towards it trying to see if there was anything in the door knob, when he saw nothing there he opened the door and give a step inside, immediately feeling a sting to his chest and cursing the almost invisible string that had been pushed with his feet, taking a little dart of his chest and looking at it only for a second, almost instantly the room in front of him became a blur, his last sight of the room before loosing consciousness was the unmade bed and the purse over the bed.

Of course the sound of somebody falling to floor upstairs draw the attention of the full team working down stairs…

-… I think by then John found me, and that's how I ended up like that. – By then the coffee was already gone and a tray of sandwiches too, and the night had already fallen outside.

-Can I see the wound? John mentioned something about rash skin and other symptoms before he left; he said it might be nothing, but just to make sure.

-Are you sure this is not a discrete way to undress me? You don't need to use that excuse with me anymore.

Molly giggled at his comment and shook her head. –No, really, it's nothing like that… yet. – She said starting to unbutton his pajama top to see his chest.

The little point where the dart had hit him was red and swollen, and that make Molly feel a little worried, there were tiny red veins in his skin that were showing over the reddened skin. Not very convinced she places her hand over his skin and Sherlock winced a little.

-I think I should call John; I don't like the look of it. – She said looking around and locating her mobile.

-Don't! I'm fine, I'm sure this is only my body's reaction to the sedative, I'm perfectly fine. – Said Sherlock upset making to stand up again to prove her wrong, but stumbling to the floor.

-No, you are definitely not fine- said Molly grabbing her phone and strolling through her contact list and dialing John. When the line connected she went to help slightly shaking Sherlock to get up.

-John…? It's me Molly. Yes, Sherlock is awake but I think he might have got an infection or something. Can you come? …Yeah sure, I'll be here.

Slowly Molly moved Sherlock to the bedroom again, he had started to shake in the last minute, and when she finally managed to lay him down over the covers he looked a bit pale.

-There must have been something on the needle- he said bracing himself in an attempt to stop shaking. – I don't think it was intended to hit Lawrence … it was her. She was expecting somebody to go to her room … this is not good Molly.

-Shush… John is already on his way here.

-Aren't you a doctor too?

-Yes, I am. But when I'm trying to figure out what infected my patients I usually cut them with a 'knife', and I don't think you would appreciate that.

-No… I wouldn't – said the consulting detective, his face paler and sweat starting to coat his forehead. – Molly… Red box… in my jacket… it's for you.

-I don't think it's the moment for this; you're getting worse by the minute! - She said putting her hand over his forehead and detecting a blooming fever.

By the moment John arrived Sherlock was a shivering mess, the fever had risen and he was still sweating cold, the rash skin had evolved into a furious eruption all over his chest. John made three calls, the first to tell Mary that he was not going home that night because he didn't want to bring what ever virus Sherlock had into his house, the second one to a friend that worked in a drug store to had him send some antibiotics, and the third to call Lestrade and explain what had happened, and see if they could find the dart in the bedroom and also made further research of that particular place before the family arrived.

Molly ended up sleeping on the couch in the living room, very late in the night after John had given Sherlock something to calm his symptoms enough to allow the three of them to sleep; the little red box in her hands.


	6. Fever

**Ok, so when I started this chapter it downed on me that I had knocked down both Holmes brothers, and that they were currently suffering in bed, so… I had to work with the characters I had left; it wasn't really my intention to get to this point, but I told you this story were being written on its own. Now, here I go, to the battle with only my back up characters that on their own should be as useful as the Consulting Detective him self (or so I hope).**

**Sherlolly fans! A little warning over here, things are getting 'steamy' in the text down there, since the rating is 'T' I will try to keep things down (not that I can write any explicit without feeling uncomfortable my self, and I don't really want to change the rating), and if I ever get (that I will) to the point when these two share a very intimate moment it will still be reasonable enough to stay under this rating, the warning is because things like that would be happening in future chapters, so relax, read and keep that in mind for next chapter. Oh, and please leave a comment!**

* * *

**6. – Fever**

Molly handed Mary the baby powder, which she applied to her daughter, then she passed a clean diaper to her. Mary finished redressing her baby girl, and then adjusted the covers on her body and took the baby in her arms swaying a little in place to get her to sleep.

Molly smiled, it wasn't often that she were in presence of Mary and her new born daughter, the baby was growing up beautifully, and Mary seemed to be the happiest woman in the world, even with all the "things" still going on. Since Sherlock was still sick, John had taken him as his patient Molly was free to use her time as she wished. So she had gone to visit Mary and baby Sophie, she wanted some news regarding Sherlock's health, Mrs. Hudson was out visiting her family so she couldn't call the old lady to ask, so her only choice was to ask Mary, and her perfect excuse to do that was this visit.

John had told her to go back to her apartment shortly after checking over Sherlock the morning after he had fallen sick, she left reluctantly, she would have used that opportunity to tell John about her relationship with Sherlock, but somehow her curiosity and a very expensive and fancy present that Sherlock had promised in the bet had stopped her, and she wouldn't dare use this "moment of weakness" (as she was sure Sherlock would call it) to bring everything to light. So she was living back at her apartment, not knowing anything about the consulting detective and feeling frustrated for not telling John to call her.

She was exaggerating, she knew it, it had been barely 15 hours since she had left, counting the few hours she had slept in her apartment and her shift at work, from which she went to Mary's, and she was already desperate, she would have called, but she wasn't sure how John would take the call, a message seemed to lack the space to pour out her worries, and calling Sherlock would be suspicious. Or maybe she was just being paranoid… Yes, maybe…

She was looking at Mary without really looking at her, lost in her thoughts, pulling at the little violin of the necklace hanging from her neck; she hadn't noticed Mary looking back at her, the woman was smirking while still swaying her baby to sleep before speaking, her voice a whisper but enough to make Molly jump in surprise.

-Just call!- said Mary moving now to lay the baby down on her bed- If John answers tell him I wanted to know what's going on there, he was supposed to call a few hours ago anyway.

-How…? – Molly was about to reply, but Mary shook her head and sent her out of the room.

-Worry is written all over your face, go on, call them, I'm worried too. – Said Mary with a knowing smile, she went back to her baby while Molly hurried down the stairs and into the living room to make the phone call.

John's phone only rang twice before he answered it. -* Mary? *

-Uhm, no… Hello John, is Molly

-*Molly, good to know you're looking after my ladies while I'm out.*

-Yeah, I thought I would drop by for a visit, how is everything going there?

-* It could be worse I guess, I think he just developed an allergic reaction to whatever was injected by the dart yesterday, but he's also showing symptoms proper of an infection. So, yes, he's been complaining and moaning his suffering for a while, but it's nothing to be worried.* -Something like Sherlock's voice was heard in the background- * Of course he has to perform as he's expected, or he would loose the Drama crown*

Molly had to hold the sigh that threatened to escape her throat in relief. – Yeah, I know how he is; would you need any help later… perhaps? - She said looking at Mary that had just joined her in the living room and blushing a little at the knowing smile on her friend's face.

-* Yes, I could use some help. By the way thank you Molly, I know this fool I have for a friend forgot to tell you, but I know he's glad you called me. And thank you again for dropping by, Mary needs company this days, not many of her friends had been able to visit her because of the security issues.*

-My pleasure, John. – She knew the call was at its end, and sensed that Mary wanted to tell her something once she hung up so she said the first thing that came to her mind - Would you like to speak with her? She just came in the room.

-* That would be lovely, thanks Molly*

Molly nodded towards Mary and handed her the phone. – Hello daddy! – said Mary in a very sweet voice that made Molly feel awkward, she mouthed something about going to the bathroom so Mary could speak freely to her husband. A few minutes later she returned to the living room to find Mary placing a tray of sandwiches on the table along with a pair of lemonade glasses.

- Now, don't you think you can fake an excuse this time Molly, I know you're hiding something and I will make you tell me or I'll figure it out by my self, either way, were having a chat right now.

-I wasn't trying to hide any…! – Molly stopped realizing she had stepped in Mary's trap and given away something- God! Listen Mary, before I tell you anything, please; tell me what you know.

Mary's smile widened and she tapped the place on the couch next to her, then took a sandwich and took a small bite while Molly sat down.

-I don't know much really. But I've been noticing things. – Molly fidgeted in her place and to keep her self busy she took a sip from the lemonade. Mary continued- The first thing I noticed was when we were at the safety house. Somehow you managed to make your friendship with Sherlock evolve a little and you started going to the meetings and you were even willing to go with them in those "missions" – said Mary taking another bite of her sandwich. Molly took one for her and waited for Mary to keep talking.

-Then- said Mary taking the lemonade this time and looking at the ceiling – there was that thing about the mobile phone, when John thought Sherlock had lost it. Somehow you had it, yes I saw you give it to him, - said Mary when Molly was about to ask how she knew- you came here that time remember? What I can't understand is why you had it. Also there's that mark just under you collarbone, - Molly froze, her eyes wide: she had noticed the hickey- just underneath the chain of you necklace, which is very cute by the way,- well, at least the necklace hadn't give it away- and I don't think that's a birth mark or a random bruise. So tell me, is there something… - Molly thought she was going to have a heart attack - you want to tell me?

Molly almost chocked when Mary finished the question, she started coughing and reached for the lemonade. Once she recovered from the cough, she cleared her throat and tried to explain. –I…I. Uhm, well Mary…

-Do you have a new boyfriend? If you're managing to keep him secret even with this entire circus rolling around, then you are good. – Molly sighed… how could she be so near the truth and fail to notice? It was so weird – Even more if Sherlock hasn't told anything about it to John is because he's helping you to keep it secret; he would have told him by now, he would have noticed by now. Unless…- This time Molly was sure that Mary knew, not with certainty, but she knew. Mary shook her head. – What am I thinking? Now Molly, spill it out. I need to know.

Molly smiled wider after that, not sure of what to say. – No, I…I don't… have a… boyfriend (_I have a Sherlock, that should be considered different_) right now, as you said with this "circus" it wouldn't be possible, and not after what… not after Tom. No. – With that Mary changed her expression a little – But I'm trying to be useful, and… sometimes I think I deserve some… cute stuff, I… bought this necklace, thought it would make me feel different and not at all… stressed by the situation.

Mary just nodded, somehow her expression reminded her of Sherlock, when he was dissecting the truth from a witness with high possibilities of being the main suspect.

To distract the attention she finished her sandwich. Mary took another sip of her lemonade as if thinking on something else to say. It was strange how Mary could make her feel as if she knew more than what she say, and right now she felt as if Mary was able to read her mind and know exactly what she wasn't telling her.

-I see – said Mary finally. –I suppose you have a deal of some kind to keep your secret with whoever you have one, - she said making Molly pale at the implications, but making clear she was not going to push the subject further – so I hope that what ever that is, is worthy. – Molly blushed and smiled again, after that the conversation moved to other subjects.

Something that draw her attention was the mentioning of Janine's name, Mary was expressing her surprise at John's retelling of the events, she told her that Janine had actually moved out of that place and was living now far from the city, and it was quite weird to heard she was around there, and the fact that she had also been in contact with Tom was something as well.

When Molly said her good byes later that day to go to Baker Street, Mary winked at her with a knowing smile on her face.

* * *

Too noisy.

The world was too noisy. Why couldn't it be quite when he was having such a headache? Sherlock opened his eyes, and saw the reason behind 'the noise' in the world over his bedside table, his mobile phone was ringing and the vibrations over the wood just increased the sound, lazily he extended his arm and took the phone, watching who was calling and burring his head once again in the covers before answering.

-So you're speaking again uh?

-* And hello to you too brother dear.* - Mycroft's voice sounded very far, and the beeping noises in the background confirmed him still at the hospital.

-What do you want?

-* I heard you weren't feeling well, what a 'coincidence'. – Sherlock opened his eyes at his brother's words. – I'm being released from the hospital tomorrow; I just wanted to see if you had already figured it out, there are very few people in this world with the capacity to do what has been done to us lately. You know who I'm talking about.*

-It can't be, not after…

-* Maybe the best decision made while all of this happened was to double up the security and to send our parents to my house.*

-He wouldn't dare…

-* How do you know? Look at us, we're useless like this. And meanwhile his "sidekicks" are moving on again. Gather your strength Sherlock; you might need to move soon, and being sick won't help. And we also need to talk, about Mary Watson and the missing link that brought me to hospital.*- Mycroft disconnected the call, and Sherlock lowered the phone on the mattress, his head aching worst.

-John! - He moaned loudly. – I need a pain killer!

John's answer was shouted at him from the kitchen, but Sherlock barely listened to it, instead putting his arms over his head in an attempt to ease his headache. John didn't went into his room a few minutes later, and Sherlock was about to shout again when he heard the front door opening.

Lestrade's voice floated to his ears, the sound was low and for once he was glad of it, moved over the bed until his head was near the door, and heard the DI speak to John.

-Sherlock?

-In his room, but I wouldn't go there, he shouted something about pain killers, but I can't give him more yet, so he might be in a bad mood if you enter the room.

-Right. We were trying to locate Mrs. Herbert housekeeper- Mrs. Herbert was the name of Ms. Lawrence accountant- we asked her for his contact details, but the phone numbers are not working and the address is wrong, I think we must have fright that old men and his wife in that house… Anyway, he's no where to be found, so we asked Mrs. Herbert to tell us about the family that she said was at the airport to receive him, and the description of the man is quite interesting.

-Yes, we heard asked her to describe him as well, he said he looked a bit like Sherlock.

-Yes, then I thought of Donovan. I think that guy; Tom, has something to do with it. Can you give me the contact details to that Janine person? If as you said she was one of the last persons to be in contact with him, then we have to talk to her.

-Sure, I'll send it later.

-Thank you John, I'll be in touch, don't let that man keep you away from your family for very long, your wife needs you a lot now that your daughter is born.

-I know. Don't worry, Molly called and said she was going to came tonight and look after him.

-She's still very much in love with him, isn't she?. Too bad he is not normal enough.

-Yeah, but I think Molly is working her way to him slowly, sooner or later she'll get there, I'm sure.

-Ha, yeah. I bet it would take her another 4 or 5 years to do it.

-Don't be so sure, I think within this year she will manage something.

-Really?

-You saw how she handled him with the drug stuff and all, he can't fight her forever.

-If you want my opinion, they're arguing now, they never did that before; it was always Sherlock asking for something and Molly happily agreeing; now they just seem to be frustrated, maybe we should count their fights as foreplay and leave them alone when they're at it.

-Don't make me think about it like that; I don't know how we would handle a sexually frustrated Sherlock.

-Wasn't he already?

Both men laughed, Sherlock frowned at the ceiling, so they finally were on the right track about finding out about his relationship with Molly, too far for his liking but still. He needed to speak with Molly, if their 'fights' were indicatives of something more between them, then he would have to plan something with her to guide them to the answer. He closed his eyes and entered his mind palace, the bit of information regarding the case required more thought.

* * *

It was a while later when Molly finally arrived to Baker Street. She was planning on going to work from there the following morning. She pushed the door open; John had left it unlocked when she had called to tell him what time she was going to arrive. Then she went upstairs, she entered the living room and placed her bag on the couch, she was just walking in the kitchen when she saw John, syringe in hand, and loading some antibiotic to it.

-John…? Oh my god! Is he that bad? - said Molly once John had finished.

-Hello Molly. No, but he managed to make piss me off enough to repay him with this. – said John with a frown on his face. He then looked at her with a smirk. – Wanna see the full moon Molly?

Molly blushed furiously at his intentions, but was unable to deny his offer. John laughed a little before heading to Sherlock's room.

-He's got fever for a while, I hope this antibiotic works better than the pills I've been given him. Of course if he weren't complaining that much he would have been feeling better by now.

Inside the dark room, Molly could make out Sherlock's silhouette underneath the covers, his dark curls showing over the pillows. John turned on the light and Sherlock moved and moaned a little.

-Lay on your front, and stop complaining. - commanded John looking for a bottle of alcohol to disinfect 'the area'. He then pulled the cover from the detective's body and reached for his pants waistband to 'expose' him. Molly's eyes widened it was one thing to see him every day in those damn good looking suits, but somehow his choice of pajamas were more revealing, and she could make out his body's shape very well, and when John finally unwrapped his…. well , she couldn't complain, but the man obviously needed to spend some more time under the sun. John applied quickly the alcohol, ignoring the muffled protest of Sherlock that hadn't acknowledged Molly in the room.

-There, now Molly, please give me the syringe!- Sherlock's body froze at his words, and Molly cleared her throat and giggled a bit at his reaction, she gave John the syringe, the man applied the injection and was rewarded with a whimper coming from Sherlock. Unable to control it anymore John and Molly started to laugh.

-Shut up you two! - Said Sherlock pulling his pants on again. – Ouch! John what the hell was that? Honey?

-No, but hopefully you'll need only two more of this. – He said throwing the cover over him again. - I'm going to give Molly the instructions over you're your medicine, she's going to stay here tonight, and I'll be back in the morning.

They both walked out the room while Sherlock moved grumpily on his bed. Once in the kitchen John told Molly about the medicine that Sherlock was supposed to take in a few hours, Molly made a mental note of everything and then went downstairs with John when he left.

Once back in the flat she went straight to Sherlock's room. Without asking for permission she crawled on the bed and lay beside him. He opened his eyes once she was next to him, her face full or worry.

-Are you feeling better now? – He moved his hand and reached for the violin on her chest, his hand was really warm against her skin, just as his breath, the flustered look on his face remind her of the fever he currently had.

-I think I'm better now. - He said smiling. She moved closer to kiss him, but he stopped her. – I don't want you to get sick. It's enough to have you here in the same room.- Molly smiled, then she moved up and worked her way underneath the cover next to him. She snuggled in his arms trying to ignore the warmth of his skin.

However he wasn't thinking the same, because his hands immediately started wandering her back, moving downwards until he placed them over her bottom, she protested and looked at him, but he just smiled. – It's only fair, you got to see mine.

-This would be fair if I had touched you as well. - She said sending her hands to that place. He winced a little when her left hand landed over the place where John had injected him. - Sorry- she said.

But Sherlock didn't stop right there, and soon the experimental touching began. Unable to kiss his lips she started kissing his cheeks, his neck and his chest over his clothes. He did the same, and the differences in their temperature soon had them covered in sweat.

-We will need to take a bath after this- she told him pressing herself closer to him.

-We might need to save water, can I share with you? - Before he could think about it they were kissing, all warning about her health forgotten, their body's natural reactions making them selves known, whimpers and quiet moans filling the room.

A while later they stopped, breathing heavily their hair completely damp with sweat. Some reminiscence of consciousness had stopped them from taking their clothes off, but not from wandering underneath, and they had only stopped because Molly needed to use the bathroom, neither of them regretting the moment they had just shared. So, she got out of bed and went to the kitchen for the medicine that Sherlock needed to take, she gave him the medicine and then walked to the bathroom. When she came back to the room Sherlock had fallen asleep, she used the opportunity to go for her bag and take a quick shower before climbing on the bed again and falling asleep next to him.

* * *

The next morning John entered 221B to find Sherlock in the kitchen, freshly showered but using a cover over his shoulders and with a cup of coffee and the newspaper in hand.

-Hey, I see you're feeling better today.

-Yep- he said popping the P.

-I hope you weren't too hard on Molly.

-I would never … - Said Sherlock feigning innocence, but John cut him off.

-You better not, she's a great woman and you should be grateful that she's willing to help you. – John moved to make a cup of coffee for himself, he had talked to Mary, and she was sure there was something already happening with those two, he still wasn't sure, but that didn't stopped him to make plans to help Molly win his best friend's heart, he was just thinking of calling her later when the front door opened again.

Molly entered the room, pale and sweaty, cheeks flushed; she looked at them and then pointed at Sherlock. –Mike sent me back home, he said I couldn't work like this, and it's all your fault.

John looked at her and then at Sherlock who had an amused expression on his face.

-Molly. How did you managed to get sick overnight? I spent more time with him yesterday and I'm feeling ok. – Said John genuinely surprised.

-It happens John- said Sherlock taking a sip from his coffee and chuckling a little. - It's in her nature; she shouldn't have seen what she saw yesterday night.

-Her nature? What do you know about her nature? And I'm sorry but what did she see?

-Oh, she's a werewolf; the full moon is bad for them. – This time he started laughing when John sputtered his coffee over the table.

-Shut up, you vampire! It's your germs that got me sick! - She said sitting at the table with them while John stood up and went for something to clean the table and grab a cup for Molly.

-Hey, calm down. Don't worry Molly I'll make you a prescription so you can handle your symptoms, and if you want I can give you the honor to use the syringe this time.

-That's not fair! If she's got MY germs, then she requires the same treatment as me! John, don't let her near the syringes! – (_Oh yes!_) Thought John, (_I'm so going to help Molly with him!_)


	7. Dancing lessons

**I had a very weird week, I'm feeling a bit down, and that's also weird since we are in October and Halloween is approaching, and I just love that day, but anyway, here it is the seventh chapther, enjoy it, any comment is welcome, cheer me up a little, please. **

* * *

**7.- Dancing lessons**

Lestrade checked once again the information that had been brought into his office that morning. It seemed that Mrs. Herbert had already presented a 'missing person' report in her search for her housekeeper; she had been in the country for at least a week, and it was only when they started asking about him that she even bothered to call and see if he was fine. And now the man was 'missing' and she was desperate to find him.

Now, this wasn't his area, he was always in charge of the interesting cases, but the one fact that had drawn his attention to it was when his peer in charge of looking for him told him that the woman didn't even know his name. He was laughing at her trouble with finding the name, he said she kept repeating 'Oh, my, I don't know his full name, I often here the other staff call him Nick, or Mike, but for me he has always been Mr. Staton, what a shame, and he's been working for us for at least 7 years, I should know it…'. It was the Nick part the one looked promising, if his memory wasn't failing the name had been said in Sherlock's case, when they were looking at the drugged bodies with the second and last message their "criminal" had sent.

Of course he couldn't be sure that they were talking about the same person, it was Sherlock's job to deduce if he was. He smirked at his own line of thought, he should be confident in his own skills; maybe he was relying too much on Holmes. However that was not the only lead he had for the case. By Sherlock's request he had asked the airport security to allow his team to take some screenshots from what his security cameras filmed and they had managed to get some images of the housekeeper and the man that had gone to get him. The hour of the day had made the images difficult to watch with attention, because the light had almost darkened their features, and most of the images showed them with their back to the cameras. And the car they had left in had gone to pick them quickly and left almost instantly, in appearance it had saved them from paying for parking outside the airport, but in the other hand it left them with no clear view of the register number of the car.

And on top of all that was the fact that Mycroft Holmes, still recovering his broken bones at his home had sent him some files for Sherlock to look at, telling him at the same time that he had to add Sgt. Donovan's team to his, he couldn't ask why, but the man was part of the government so even if he said no he would find Sally's team under his command later that same day, so the sensible thing to do was to do it already. That left him with the not so welcome duty of going to Baker Street to deliver all that information. For God's sake, he was a Detective Inspector, not a 'pizza deliverer' with nothing better to do. Of course this was part of his job, and when ever Sherlock was involved it was his responsibility to have and receive the information first hand.

He looked at his clock; his lunch time was approaching, certainly there was nothing wrong about taking his rightful time to eat before heading to Baker Street. He sighed, oh how he wanted this case to be solved soon.

* * *

Molly's mobile phone was on the table; her favorite play list was on, the volume high enough to fill the room with the lyrics of the song, lyrics that were being ignored. If someone have wanted to enter the apartment at that very moment in a hurry, that person would be quite surprised by the scene taking place in the middle of the room.

Sherlock was kissing Molly; more than that, he seemed keen on the purpose of never letting her take another breath; tongues meeting in passionate movements, soft whimpers escaping their lips, her arms around his neck, a hand buried in his hair, the other sliding under his shirt collar; his hands on her waist, keeping her close to him, they parted for a second to catch their breath, Molly standing on her tip toes to press sweet kisses to his jaw, he was feeling light headed, in an impulse he moved his left hand in the direction on her chest, trying to keep the little control he still had from being bolder and acting on pure instinct, if he was going to do this he was not going to let his baser urges blind him from the whole experience, he had a trained mind and was able to control himself (or so he wished).

She started kissing his neck, one of her hands unbuttoning the first and second button on his shirt, and he almost lost it, hissing in pleasure as her warm breath and slightly wet kisses made their way on his skin, his body was starting to react and his right hand wandering downwards a little.

_Knock, knock… _

_What the…?_

-Sherlock? - The sound of the door knob make them stop, the door was opening and they were still very much in an awkward position, thinking fast he moved his left hand from its tentative place just below his goal and reached for her arm, pulling it straight and interlocking their hands, then placing his right hand on her lower back, he winked at Molly's confused eyes and in a swift motion started waltzing with her.

-Of course this is not proper music for waltz Molly, but I'll get something more appropriate for next lesson.

-Right! ...- Said Molly catching the game; once Sherlock's back was at the door and she was able to look at their guest she smiled, praying that her face wasn't as guiltily flushed as she felt it was. - Hello Greg. You caught us in the middle of my 'dancing lessons'.

Lestrade looked at them with lifted eyebrows, he had known there was someone there because the door wasn't fully locked, but she was the last person he had expected to see there; it was not weird for him to see Molly blushing in Sherlock's presence, and it seemed natural that she was redder than usual by being that close to him right now (had her lips always been that red?), but something seemed off with the Consulting Detective. His chance to ask what was happening passed soon when a voice came from downstairs behind him.

-Sherlock! Come help us get Sophie's stroller up stairs!

-I-I'll go…- said Lestrade automatically and rushed downstairs to help the Watson s up stairs.

In a hurry Sherlock buttoned again his shirt; Molly took her phone and stopped the music, fanning herself with her hands, while he did the same with the news paper he had taken from the desk behind her in an attempt to look less flustered. The time wasn't enough, but they managed to look decent when Mary entered carrying Sophie, followed by John and the DI that were currently trying to bend the stroller so it wouldn't occupy a lot of space in the room.

Mary looked at them, her expression surprised at first, but then she smiled and shook her head, she walked towards the large couch and seated there.

-I'll make some tea. - said Sherlock taking the moment to try and escape in the kitchen.

-Wait. Sherlock, I brought some files for you to check- said Lestrade stopping him right at the entrance of the kitchen.

-Oh, let the man go, he's being for once a good host. I'm sure it'll take you time to see over the files, we could do with some tea- said Mary looking at Sherlock with the truth written all over her smile.

-Right. - Said the DI, walking to the couch as well, where John was already seated next to Mary. He wasn't going to mention it right now, but Sherlock's face was as red as Molly's, he wondered why… Sherlock busied himself with the tea, and went back in the living room, looking normal again.

-I see Molly has been a good influence in you. You were never one to make tea, much less offer it to someone else.-Said John smiling at Molly.-Molly, please, do keep coming and teach him some manners.

-So… Dancing lessons eh? - Said Lestrade looking from Molly to Sherlock and smiling – Thought John was actually joking when he said you taught him how to dance for his wedding.

-You are teaching Molly now? - Said John very surprised- It's totally worthy Molly. Spend as much time as you can, practicing with him, you may not tolerate him very long but you'll learn a lot.

Molly giggled, and Sherlock cleared his throat, his best friend attitude was very much telling what his intentions were. – You said something about some files. - He said looking at the Inspector.

-Yes. - Said Lestrade placing the files over the table and leaning forward to draw their attention on him- Today, a few hours ago Mrs. Herbert officially reported his housekeeper as 'missing', you know its not my area but something told me that you actually needed to see the file, the officer that made the report asked her his name, and though she couldn't recall it with accuracy it could either be Mike or Nick, Staton. I also got checked the security cameras at the airport and my team was able to print some screenshots, may be you can take a better look at them than me and actually be able to tell us a bit more about 'his nephew'. Oh, and your brother sent the sealed file, he said that you should be the only one looking at it, I wonder why he couldn't just send it here with his assistant, of course I don't really mind having her visit my office more often

Sherlock was looking through the pages of the files while Lestrade explained.- It'll never happen, Anthea is smitten with Mycroft, has been for many years, she's not going to even stop to look at you. The worst part is that he would never return her feelings, he likes sweets most. – Lestrade opened his mouth at this revelation, trying to find an argument against it. When nothing came to his mind he looked at Molly and felt some pity for Mycroft's PA, at least Molly got to spend time with Sherlock; the poor woman was always hiding away in her mobile. – Yes, her addiction to the gadget is worrying, but Mycroft keeps ignoring my recommendations.

No body even bothered to ask Sherlock why he had mention that, all of them had at some point thought that Anthea's unstopping attention to her mobile phone was not healthy. After a few page shifting and a bit of quiet they started talking about other topics. Like the possibility of Mycroft becoming diabetic as a result for his addiction to sweets; the unpredictable weather that had kept Mary from taking Sophie outside and the many dancing stiles that John was trying to convince Molly to learn. Once Sophie awoke, Mary happily handed her to Sherlock, being that what she had come to do every time they saw each other. He wasn't even sure why Mary did it, and John's gaze clearly told him that it wasn't a good idea to reject her.

Later that day when Lestrade and Molly had said their goodbyes (the last one obviously wanting to stay), he found time to read more carefully the new files, John was sitting at his usual chair, watching Mary swaying in the room to make Sophie sleep.

-John, look at this photos, -said Sherlock, pointing at the picture he was looking at, the doctor leaned down and saw the two persons that were supposed to be Mr. Staton and his nephew. There was some familiarity to the profile of the nephew, but he couldn't really tell why.

-Isn't that Tom?

-He could be – said Sherlock taking his magnifying glass to look at him closer-, I actually think he is.

-Why?

-Mycroft sent me some 'peculiar' information. From the many employees he interviewed with this particular purpose there's this woman, her name is Katherine Brady; she works for him at the government offices, so she's not really a close employee to him, in charge only of keeping him updated regarding his responsibilities there and the usual paperwork, and when we checked her file there was noting suspicious there. - Sherlock reached inside the file and handed John a picture of a tiny woman, wavy hair, glasses, she looked like an ordinary receptionist. – She's quite shy, but very good at her work, there really is nothing wrong with her, but, there was a man working at the same building, want to guess who that was?

-Tom?

-Yes, he worked as an assistant for a different person, Mycroft got to the conclusion that there wasn't really an infiltrate employee working for him, but actually a clever person snatching the information in an unconvincing way, as you know he despise sentiment, so he never thought that some one would 'flirt' his way to get to him.

-Care to elaborate?

-Well, as I told you Katherine Brady seems to be a very shy person, so she might not have many friends at work, but also nobody think wrong of her, lets say that this man is acting kind and charming, he could invite her for coffee and there would be nothing suspicious there, and of course there's nothing wrong with it, with time she starts to see him as her friend, and he could fake that easily, even going as far as proposing him self as a romantic partner at some point.

-Your point being?

-Mycroft sent somebody to interview her, that's when he found out about her 'friend'. She mentions that they used to chat and have lunch together, after all they worked at the same place, but sometimes and I quote "when I returned from delivering some papers, or from the bathroom, he would be here waiting for me", he entered her office when she wasn't there, that's how much she confide in him, it's only logical to think that in those brief moments when she wasn't at her office he looked around her things or even her computer and took the information with out her knowing.

John nodded, now following Sherlock's train of thought. - And then he disappeared, the same day that Mrs. Herbert and Staton arrived to the country according to the research about Tom's job, he never showed up that day, or the days after, and that's when most of the things happened. And casually he's at the airport, helping his "uncle" with his bags and his dog; the car that went to get them outside the airport was called from a street near by, away from the Airport's outside cameras, so there's not much to work out of the plaque, its completely blurry.

-Sherlock, what happened to this Katherine woman, I can't help but notice that it's almost what happened to Molly, you know with "Jim from IT".- Said John making the quotation marks with his hands. Sherlock looked at him, his face one of deep concentration.

-I need to think this further, if what you said it's true we're dealing with an imitator, and it could be either Nicola or Tom, but there's still a chance that it's somebody else, and we need to find out why they are doing this. What's the point?

John took that as a cue to leave, since usually Sherlock would go into his mind palace to deal with the details, so he made a gesture to Mary and they both said their good byes, leaving Sherlock deep in thought.

* * *

The following day Sherlock received a message early in the morning; it was Lestrade asking him to hurry and met him at Lawrence house. He tried to call to ask for more details as to why he had to go there if the woman's case was already closed, but he didn't pick up. Instead John called him.

-*This better not be your bloody idea Sherlock! You better have a very good reason.*- John's voice sounded as if he were still half asleep; he stopped the first cab he saw, told the address and then responded to John.

-Stop it John. I know as much as you do, but I can't contact Lestrade. I'll meet you there.

-*Fine* - was John's only response.

A few minutes later they both found each other walking up the street towards the house, an awful smell filled their noses, and kept getting worse the more they approached. An officer escorted them into the house, and up to the roof, where a forensics team was already working the scene. Lestrade saw them and walked to them, a handkerchief covering his nose and mouth.

-A neighbor called. It was his third call this week, the woman was complaining about a weird smell near this place.

-I suppose that's a corpse then. - Said John pointing at a bag covering part of the roof and lifting his arm to cover his nose with his sleeve.

-Yes, we never checked the roof that day. There was no reason to come here then, but it seems that Mrs. Lawrence was not the only one murdered that day. The body is in a horrible state.

-We figured out that much. - Said John nodding, the smell was really awful.

-Send it to St. Bart's and call Molly, she has the morning shift. – Said Sherlock approaching the scene as if the smell didn't bothered him.

Lestrade gave the order to the forensics team and the three of them walked back down the stairs. With a nod to confirm that they would see him later John and Sherlock made their way towards the hospital.

-How do you know Molly is working early today? - Said John once they were in a cab.

-She mentioned it yesterday, when… I… asked when she was free for her next class.

John lifted and eyebrow at Sherlock sudden shifting in his seat. It gave the impression that Sherlock wasn't sure of his answer, was he lying?

When they arrived the morgue was empty, they sat near the exploration table that Molly always used to work. Fifteen minutes later the doors to the morgue opened to Molly and a paramedic rolling the corpse inside, she smiled at them while they moved to give them space to move the body. The smell was worse than what John remembered, and once it was settled on the exploration table the paramedic left as quickly as he could.

Lestrade entered through the other door. – Agh, it smells worse than before, we shouldn't have moved it! Molly, will you call me once you are done with it? I'm not sure I can be even near this place while you work.

-Sure- said Molly filling the first data of her report on a paper. John wasn't sure he was going to be able to survive at this either, and he had already endured Sherlock's experiments smelling like this when they started to rot. Lestrade didn't have to hear Molly twice, John was feeling brave enough to stay, but when Molly started unzipping the bag he thought it better. He turned to tell Sherlock, but the man of course was already changing his coat for a white lab coat.

-Need help? - He said walking decided towards the corpse.

-Not really- she said looking at the state of the corpse. Again John tried to talk but another wave of smell hit him and his stomach made a warning flip. His placed his hand over his mouth, and tried to calm down.

Sherlock and Molly worked the body out of the bag; Molly started her voice recorder and placed it next to the table. – Visceral rupture. – said Molly touching her nose briefly. – Explains the smell, it must have happened when they moved it. In this decayed state there's nothing worse. Male, in his late twenties, found on a rooftop, the back shows signs of burnt skin caused by weather conditions, the front shows change in color due to the blood pooling in this side by being found lying on his face. He's been dead for at least two weeks.

Sherlock then proceed to do what he did better. – 29 years old, he was meant to marry Mrs. Lawrence, his mother passed away recently, no siblings, actually no family left, lawyer, used to smoke and drink, recently moved into town, probably because of his wedding day approaching. – As always John was surprised of his friend's ability to read people, he was about to make some questions when Molly decided she was going to turn the body and started moving it.

He turned around, decided to leave them to work alone for a while, he had barely reached the door when Molly gasped. Curiosity overtook them and he turned around to see the body now lying on its back. From his perspective it had only revealed many worms coming out of the skin, but Molly and Sherlock were leaning over the chest to look closer at something.

Wishing he wasn't feeling so sick at the moment he walked back towards the examination table, covering his nose and mouth with both hands to be sure. Once near enough he could make out some marks carved on the skin, like in the first corpses they had found. The worms moving inside the wounds were not helping him to decipher the message, but some concentration allowed him some clarity.

I did miss you

Sherlock looked up from the corpse to Molly and then to John, before either of them could say something Sherlock was changing into his coat again and leaving the morgue.

* * *

The personal blog of Dr. John H. Watson…

_We may be approaching the very reason behind all that happened since that transmission, it seems like some one is trying to get in touch with Sherlock, thought as you know by now it can't be Moriarty. _

_Sherlock suggested that the man can be an imitator of some sorts, as his Modus Operandi is really quite alike to the one showed by the criminal himself. Today we found a new body with another message carved into his skin, and somehow the simple phrase was enough to cause a big reaction in the Consulting Detective; the man practically disappeared from the morgue to an unknown location after reading the message and there's been no word from him ever since._

_The usual DI called us this morning, I'm not ashamed to say that at first I thought that it had been Sherlock's idea, since it wouldn't be the first time he calls at ungodly hours for no good reason; the Inspector had just visited Baker Street the day before to deliver some important files regarding the case, and it was really unusual of him to call us that early, unless it was something really important. _

_Also this is the first time that I am informed of an unnoticed death body found in a crime scene two weeks after working out the first body found there and also having the case "closed". That taking us to Mrs. Lawrence house again._

_I'm still wondering how those two weeks were able to run by without the neighbors making more complaints, the smell was almost unbearable, believe me, I've been near rotting bodies before, but this one managed to make me feel nauseous. But who would have thought that the murderer would leave another victim on the roof? I still don't understand how Sherlock himself could have missed that. His behavior is out of character lately._

_But well, with all this happening is good to know that some of my friends are still able to carry on with their lives. Were you aware of Sherlock's 'secret' hobbie? All I'm going to say is that he's a great dancer, he taught me some good steps, and now is the turn of one particular girl to learn from him (but please, don't ask him to give you lessons, it's quite rare for him to offer his help on things like this, and even weirder to hear that he proposed those classes)._

_I kind of think that she is also part of the reason behind my best friend's change of personality, my Mary has her own theory and our good friend the DI is starting to share her opinion. I would love to agree with them, but Sherlock has never done 'sentiment', and thought my dear friend is allowed to have a crush with the man, I hardly think he would know how to handle the situation._

_There's also some other leads that had brought to our case information about people that I personally would have never picture involved with a crime, but the connection between those person is not mistaken. There is, I think, still another person playing this game, and we still don't know who it is. However it must be someone that used to know Sherlock, someone that was as much part of his life as maybe his brother's, if this person wouldn't know him, why say he/she missed him?_

* * *

_Are you busy? MH._

**A bit. Why? SH.**

_Just checking on you. Everything all right? MH._

**Had to talk with Mycroft. He's not telling me something. SH.**

**Afraid he might want to get information from me as well. SH.**

_Well he's still unaware of 'this'. Sure you can handle him. MH._

**That actually helps a little. SH.**

**Have I told you about Lestrade description of us arguing? SH.**

_Yes. Need to try that sometime. ;) MH._

**Maybe on your next dancing lesson. SH.**

_Or in the next postmortem? Never knew you were so eager to help me with them before. MH._

**Problem? I was going to stop that soon anyway. Lestrade and John keep looking at me in that weird way every time I help you. SH.**

_Well, you certainly weren't one to do any of it before. You can't blame them. It's actually suspicious. MH._

_If I didn't know your real motivation behind it, I would be as surprised. MH._

**Fair enough. See you soon Mrs. Hooper. SH.**

_See you. Good night Mr. Holmes. MH._

**Don't call me Mr. Holmes. SH.**


	8. Fights

**This chapter has little to do with the case, it's funny but I cannot make Sherlock and Molly fight, really it was easier to find something funny for them to talk about, but anyway, this chapter also explores a little bit different points of view and some crazy plans in this mess to find out about the secret relationship of the characters. Also, I apologize for any bad joke down there, jokes in spanish are not that funny once you translate them to english.**

* * *

**8.- Fights**

Mycroft tapped the cap of his pen against his chin, still not looking at Sherlock, his eyes fixed over the grayish pages of the newspaper. Taking a decision he leaned forward on his desk and used his pen to draw a number 8 on the sudoku square he was completing. His brother huffed in front of him, he knew why he was here, and he also had some matters to discuss with him, but he was expecting to delay the conversation for a little more.

-Mycroft I know you would rather busy yourself trying to find out where you placed the wrong number, but I have more important things to do than wait until you finish. We need to talk, and I would prefer it if you pay some attention.

-Says the one who's distracted. - He replied placing the pen over the desk and folding the paper. – What do you want to discuss brother dear?

-I want to talk about 'the thing'.

-I don't think that's proper conversation for the evening.

-No… That's weird on you, don't do weird Mycroft, your appearance is enough. I mean, that 'thing' you are hiding from me, and don't deny it, even our parents know about it, they were very uncomfortable during my visits when you were at the hospital, but of course they wouldn't say a thing about the issue. What is it that my whole family has the need to keep it from me?

Mycroft sighed and readjusted himself on the chair he was using; one of his legs was still healing, as some of his ribs, Sherlock looked at him with a bit of amusement. – Well I could say this is certainly not the moment I was planning to have this conversation, but I need information as well, so it's your choice Sherlock, you can tell me about Mary Watson, and I can tell you about 'the thing'. Or you can wait for it to be brought to the light on its own.

-I don't know who you think I am, you know how far your 'little brother' has gone to protect his friends, so you know I'm not the same person and right now I am telling you, not even you stand a chance against me if you want to control or manipulate them through me.

-Careful Sherlock, sentiment is not going to help you threaten me. I've helped the Watson's before, it took a while but I can also trust John even if we don't like each other. I was just offering to exchange of information. – In that moment an employee entered Mycroft's office with a tray of tea, once on the desk she left hurriedly.

Sherlock looked at Mycroft with narrowed eyes, he wasn't sure how much he could trust his brother, and even to family standards he knew how easily he would use what he knew against him. He took a cup of tea from the tray.

-Ok, but I'm going to be honest, the things I know about her are not enough to give you a full view of who she is. I did this as a vow of confidence to her and not even John knows everything I do.

-Then I suppose we have a deal. - Said Mycroft leaning a bit forward to look at Sherlock more closely. – Remember when we were young and you were in the process to finish building your mind palace?

-You know I do.

-I told you then that it was almost impossible to delete something without conscious effort, of course things can be deleted, but the most important and most vivid memories stay there for ever. We trained out minds to keep in memory little data, details to be able to deduce and understand things that common people just don't notice. But we are humans, and like it or not our brain still work with the same basic rules; for example an ordinary person would block the memory of a shocking or terrifying incident, automatically his brain would hide the information concerning that specific moment, making the person 'forget' about what happened, of course when said shock is recalled of replayed in front of them they remember, this alone tells us that moments like that can't be deleted from the brain, now tell me, how would a brain like ours would deal with a shocking memory like that?

-Why are you telling me this? - He said watching Mycroft take a pastry from the tray.

-Because Sherlock, the 'thing' you are looking for, the information you want me to talk about you already know, our parents and I promised not to talk about it again with you in fear that you remembered it all, it was safer then to keep it from you, and I personally think that you shouldn't remember, the thing is that you will probably need to do it to solve this case. It was bound to end like this anyway.

-To answer your question, a room would be created automatically to store the moment depending of the impact and importance of said moment, thought if it's something shocking it's a room and not just a file or a bookshelf, but the brain basic function would still block it. It would make the room difficult to find and almost impossible to open.

-Almost?

-All doors can be opened.

-Not this, your own brain would prevent you from wanting to open the door; there are no locks in a mind palace, because no other person can go inside it, and the mind has interesting ways to keep you away from things that can damage it. How would you access the information behind it? – Mycroft smiled at Sherlock's confused expression. - Now, what can you tell me about Mary?

-You said this was an exchange of information, just to tell me a bit later that I already had said information, so, no Mycroft, I will tell you nothing about Mary Watson, other than what you already know.

-You're growing clever Sherlock. I'll let it go for now, but you need to focus, keep doing postmortems and you might end telling your friends that you can't solve this case. – Sherlock emptied his cup and stood up.

-Thanks for the tea, brother. – Then he turned around and walked out of there.

* * *

-No, really, this group has great compositions, their music has been well received in many countries; latin people consider the Salsa to be one of the most seductive rhythms, of course that's just for the conventional dancing, you know music you can hear now and then at clubs, or parties.

-John I don't know if she would like something like that, if you ask me I don't think she's all that interested in the dancing part, it's more like to be with him. – Lestrade took another sip of his beer, talking with John was always very entertaining, but today he was not really sure of what he was really thinking about.

-I'm trying to give her a good excuse to keep him like that! Sherlock is really capable of love and sentiment. It's Mycroft the one who filled his head with that nonsense about quemical defects and all that rubbish. - Or maybe they were just a bit tipsy.

-Yeah, we've seen what he has done to protect those he loves! - He said sarcastically.

-My point. So tell me Greg, what is wrong with my idea of giving Molly a good CD that she could use to keep Sherlock between her arms, dancing or otherwise?

-Let's no go there- said Lestrade placing his bottle on the table, and taking a nacho from the order they had asked with their beers, he ate it and then spoke. – Listen, John, a few days ago, when Sherlock was still sick, we made some suggestions about them getting closer. And the other day when I arrived to Baker Street I saw something confusing, and honestly I think there's something already there, whether or not they had realized it yet. - He was starting to think he was better at holding his liquor than John, who seemed a lot drunker and was swaying slightly.- I wouldn't push them into it, knowing Sherlock, he would flee at the mere suggestion of him doing exactly what he thinks is not something safe or logical, whatever his idea is. And thought I don't want him to disappoint Molly, I don't want to pressure her either. We should let them get there by themselves, it may take sometime, but she's been patient enough for us to casually go and scare him away.

-Ok, I get that. – Said John playing with his bottle by rolling the bottom over the table – But if there's really something going on, we need to know. I know Sherlock would never tell me if they were, you know what happened with Janine, and I know I'm not the only one expecting Molly to finally succeed at this.

-So explain your plan then.

-We can try to get them together with out them knowing.

-John, the beers are already affecting you. - He looked over the table to the group of bottles they had already drunk. - We're talking about Sherlock bloody Holmes that man will see right through it.

-But Molly won't; you've seen them work together, it's as if they had a telepathic connection.

-Yes, it's quite amazing actually. So you're suggesting that we help Molly by keeping Sherlock with her.

-See, I give her a CD with some classic Salsa for her to keep taking dancing classes with him…

-And I keep sending Sherlock to the morgue whenever Molly is working.

-Then whatever's been going on between them just happens naturally. And you don't even have to lie to Sherlock to send him there, I'm sure there are still many cases for him to solve even when he's busy working with this exhausting and frustrating one still going on.

-You're right John. Count me in; let's get Molly that 'C', 'D'. But John, how are we going to know if it's working? You said Sherlock won't tell you.

-Mary and Molly are very good friends, I'm sure my wife will keep me updated about them.

-And what if they're already together and they just take advantage of the situation?

-We need a better plan. – Said John emptying his bottle and trying to look serious – Forget the Salsa. How about Tango?

* * *

The following afternoon Sherlock entered the morgue, he was angry at Lestrade for asking him to help with another case; he was already busy with one, and he had spent the whole night in his mind palace looking for the missing information that Mycroft had told him and the DI's call had taken him out of it. He was growing tired again, his body was giving him sings that he needed to eat and rest soon. So the sooner he solved this case, the sooner he could tell Lestrade to stop bothering him when he was working.

Molly was already working the first procedures on the body, just by seeing her he felt a little more relaxed, so he walked towards her and took a look at the body. Molly's essence reached him, and he felt the urge to kiss her but John and Lestrade were supposed to be coming behind him so he couldn't.

-I'm not complaining, you know I like having you here, but why are you here Sherlock? – asked Molly walking behind him and sliding her hand over his back.

-Graham called me… and said he needed help with a case. - He said feeling shiver run down his spine with her touch.

-It's Greg. Well, you didn't need to come. It's not a murder, it was an accident. He was found dead at his house by his son. – She said standing in front of the body and looking at him. Sherlock lowered his eyes onto the dead man on the table.

-Very funny- he said unable to contain a smile, Molly lifted an eyebrow questioningly – See that thing under his nails, the diversity of the color indicates that is some kind of makeup, the mark over his nose is not made by a pair of glasses, he's wearing loose shoes meaning he was used to wear oversized shoes, also by that awful bow tie (seriously, a green bow tie with big red dots), his suspenders and of course the wrinkles around his eyes. This man was a clown. He was probably preparing his stuff to go to a party.

-I don't think that's funny.

-Neither did him. - Both looked at each other and had to contain their laughter – Judging by the purple coloration of the tip of his fingers he had a heart condition, and seeing his lips are also a bit purplish he asphyxiated, add to everything his excessive weight that made it easier to cause a cardiac arrest and here we are. - He looked cautiously at the man's face, he pulled a glove from the instrument table next to him and opened the mouth of the man, with his fingers he moved the tongue of the man and watched his throat. - Aha, I just found the murderer. – Molly looked at him amused; Sherlock stretched his fingers and pulled something green from the man's throat. – The revenge of the green balloon, in the name of all the balloons this man twisted into animals. – Molly giggled, and placed a container for the balloon in front of him, where he dropped it and then she closed it.

-This criminal would never escape this prison. - Molly said shaking the container; Sherlock took of the glove and threw it to a bin. - How did the balloon get there?

-Maybe he was about to sneeze, had the balloon on his lips, pulled in all that air and swallowed it accidentally. This man wasn't bad; behind that cheerful expression was the only purpose of making people laugh to death.- Now he was just being ironic, anything to keep Molly smiling. – The funny thing about him was that his jokes were not funny. No one was or will be ever able to fill his oversized shoes.

-Stop it Sherlock. - Said Molly shaking her head, her smile as wide as always. - Have a little more respect for the man. It was his job, you shouldn't joke about him. - He smiled and then sighed, trying to look serious again.

-Think about this Molly, if we were cannibals he would probably taste funny. Good thing we're not because he was also diabetic.

-And what with that?

-I'm not sure if I would be willing to drink my coffee black with two of his toes.

-That's disgusting! – They both started laughing again. Sherlock gave a quick glance to the doors, wondering why John and Lestrade were taking so long. Seeing as they were still no where to be seen he walked around the table and pulled Molly into his arms, she wrapped her arms around him and they kissed lightly. Then Sherlock pressed his cheek to her head and started swaying with her.

-Sherlock, I know the mystery is solved, but I still have to do the autopsy.

-Just a second, I need to recharge my battery. Molly looked up at him with a worried expression; he leaned down and pressed his forehead to hers. - I was thinking of a good excuse to use your couch again later, but John and Lestrade are doing something and you might need to fight with me.

-Well, at least I don't need to invent a reason for that. - She said stepping away from him.

Sherlock rolled his eyes, he was about to apologize, but the sounds of footsteps walking down the stairs made him change his words.

-You know it's something I've done before. I can remain awake for as long as I want.

-You never had a case like this one! I thought you had learned something from the last time you were sick.

-That was just a few days ago, I had plenty of rest during those days. - John and Lestrade could be seen through the upper glass on the doors, it didn't allowed them to see clearly through it, because it was blurred, but they could hear them, so he walked to the other side, feigning dramatically to make her notice their guests.

-That was not rest, you were recovering, and if I recall you were whining and complaining like a child all the time… - He heard the men behind the doors chuckle at Molly's comment, before turning around to face her, only to see her wink before continuing. - You also know that the brain needs to rest to be able to complete complex task such as your deduction skills.

-I'm doing perfectly fine!

-No, you're not! You're stuck, and you know it! –This was an actual sensitive spot.

-I'm NOT.

-Yes, you are, whoever is making this up is probably laughing at you. Keep exhausting yourself like this and someday we'll find your body floating in the Thames! And all because you can't take a few hours of the day to rest for a while!

-Do you think it's that easy? Even asleep my mind would be working on the case, the difference is that I can actually remember my thought process while awake, I'm not going to endanger the case just because the solution of it came to me in a dream that I can't even remember.

-Well I'm not letting you endanger your life and sanity like this! You have a brilliant mind; you need rest and food to keep it healthy, lest you loose strength and perspective. Stop being so stubborn! Even if the information is lost in a dream once you reach the answer you'll know it was there all the time.

Sherlock looked at her, that last bit sounded like the solution to Mycroft's conundrum. He smiled widely at his realization, unaware of John opening the door behind him and entering the morgue. He walked towards her, his arms already reaching for her, until he saw her face and she formed the words 'Not now' with her lips. Suddenly perceiving movement behind him, he growled, giving up his chance to hug her again and instead passing his fingers through his hair.

-What. Do. You. Suggest? – He asked in a low voice, making sure to pronounce every word clearly.

She looked at him, her mouth opening a little to answer, when John's hand fell over his shoulder and he turned around.

-Step away from her Sherlock. You're scaring her. First calm down or I'll beat you up so hard you will be waking up in a few months and your 'rest' problem would be solved.- John's fierce expression was very convincing, so he straighten up and walked to the other corner of the room. – Sorry Molly. He tends to bipolarity when he's stressed and tired.

-Thanks John, I know how he can be sometimes. - Said Molly smiling at his friend.

Lestrade cleared his throat behind them. – Have you worked out the cause of death?

Molly opened her mouth again, her smile threatening to turn into a laugh; Sherlock chuckled quietly, while she pointed at the green balloon in the small container. He used the moment when Lestrade and John watched the 'murderer' closely, pulling his mobile from his coat and sending a quick message to Molly.

_**I'll be waiting for you at your flat. You are welcome to rest with me. SH.**_

It arrived a few seconds later and Molly checked it with a smile, then he cleared his throat to make the men look at him again.

-Lestrade, I'm going to need access to the Archives and Record Administration offices, I need to know what they were looking for there, or what they were trying to hide. I don't think this has anything to do anymore with Nicola's records.

-Then what are you going to look for?

-Obviously for records about me, anything linked to me really. From the start they tried to stop me from leaving to that 'trip', the messages are addressed to me, this person knows me, and is affecting my life. If they are trying to reach me or use any information against me I need to know what it could be.

-Right.

-Also I need you to send someone to make further investigation about the people that worked at Mrs. Herbert house, possibly to France. Please do inform John about everything you manage to arrange, I'm clearly in need of some 'rest' so I won't be in touch with you for a while. John, I'll call you later.

He nodded at Molly and then walked out of the morgue.

* * *

-…and then he left. He's usually bossing around every day, and you know how Molly is, especially around him, always giving him what he wants, it's actually surprising that she can manage to argue with him without starting to shake or cry.

-Molly is a strong woman. She's been through many things, at first dealing with the daily rejection of Sherlock, then what happened with Moriarty, she had to help Sherlock fake his death, I'm sure those two years were not very easy to live, keeping a secret like that even from you. Then after he came back she had to deal with the breaking of her engagement, and all those things since this case started. If anything I think you underestimated her. - Said Mary reading a book on the couch while Sophie slept next to her under her covers.

John sighed and lowered the newspaper that he was supposed to be reading.

-Yes, maybe. But you have to agree with me, that Molly doesn't pull out the image of the strong woman at first sight. She looks small, almost delicate; I think it's unfair that she has to put up with some of the worst Sherlock's eccentricities and attitudes.

-But she does, willingly and like nobody else. I'm sure Sherlock knows how to appreciate it.

-He should be able to thank her as well. Molly deserves to be recognized by him, what I would give to make him realize how much she means, how she cares and how she loves to be in his life.

-Molly will get what she needs from Sherlock. I know he should have realized it before, but believe me John; he's on the right path now.

They both sighed, and John gave Mary a thankful smile, he stood up and went to the kitchen to prepare a pair or cups of tea. He sat on the couch at the other side of Sophie, passed Mary one of the cups and turned the TV on.

-Did he tell you where he was going to be 'resting'? Is he at Baker Street?

-No, I went to see him a while ago but he wasn't there; but he's probably not resting at all either, no matter where he is.

-I bet Molly had a few ideas to get him to bed. – John started coughing.

-What…? - He said looking at his wife.

-Nothing. Just wondering if Sherlock did ask her to suggest what he could do to rest.

-How do you know? He asked her about it right before I stopped him, he looked quite dangerous.

-Never mind. If Molly helps him, he'll be asleep before midnight.

-Yes, he will probably call her at an ungodly hour to ask about it, he could be so annoying sometimes. I'll send a message to warn her. – He lifted his mobile phone and started sending the message when Mary reacted at high speed, placing her cup on the coffee table in front of her reaching out and stopping John from sending the message

-How can you not catch it John? – Said Mary rolling her eyes and laughing at John's expression. - You could be interrupting something important. Why can't you believe me when I tell you they are together and fine? – John frowned. – Let's make a bet, you and I.

-About what?

-Well, I bet Sherlock and Molly have been together for a while.

-They're not, not yet at least; I bet they will be by the time the case is solved.

-Ok, up until then, they have to confirm their long relationship or start dating; if they're together already you are buying me a new mobile phone.

-If they start dating right after I want a bigger TV screen.

-Deal. You better start saving money, I already saw my new phone.


	9. Spaguetti

**Hi, now that I have the case firmly set and there are not many details to work about that I can focus a little bit more on Sherlock and Molly. Also with their friends starting to notice what's going on there's bigger chance for me to put them in different situations and have some fun. I think that there are certain things and behaviors that can be seen in people having a relationship, and underneath everything that Sherlock is there's still a human being.**

**I want to apologize for complaining so much, my inner writer craves some reviews with comments telling me if you like it, or with funny remarks, I used to wait and update until I had three reviews (a long time ago), but now I can't be that selfish, so I'm going to be happy only with the number of followers (it keeps growing, that should do), thank you very much for reading, it really makes me happy, and I really hope you are enjoying it at least a bit. I was thinking of writing a Halloween special, but everything ends up turning into a romantic fic (read Fade, not really material for Halloween), so that will have to wait. I'll leave you to chapter 9.**

* * *

**9.-Spaghetti **

It didn't surprised Molly to find Sherlock buried beneath the covers of her bed, clutching a pillow to his chest and sound asleep when she arrived from work that night. She knew he was asleep because if he wasn't he usually reacted to the softest sounds, but when her phone beeped with a text message when she was closing the door to her bedroom, he didn't even move. She wasn't really sure how long he had been awake this time. So it was good to found him so lost in dreams for once, she thought of the quickly cooling dinner she had brought.

Well at least she always managed to feed him something when ever he came to visit, so the food was not going to be a problem. She left the take away she had bought in the kitchen, made her way to the bathroom and took a shower before deciding that she wasn't really hungry, she dressed herself in a pair of pajamas and went to the bed, laying at his back, hugging him the same way he hugged the pillow, feeling if only for a moment a bit ridiculous for being so literally tiny around him, when usually she was the one wrapped in his arms.

It was surprising how much their relationship had moved on, if she had known that just a kiss with the right lip gloss was enough to have him like this, she would have started with that. She still sometimes felt as if everything was just a dream, it couldn't be that easy, and she had been tempted to ask him about his reasons to be with her. If this was a dream, it was the best she had ever had. But then there was that sense of security now, not only had he started showing her affections that seemed impossible for him to develop when she met him, and he was trying to understand her, with what happened with Tom, and then by spending all that time working with her at the morgue. He was so out of character, and she wouldn't dare to ask him the reason behind it, fearing that he would suddenly snap out of a trance induced by his stress and fear since the case started.

On the other hand he had suggested the relationship to be a secret, ok, it was a bet and she somehow found it romantic to be with him in this exclusive way, being the only one getting his attention and proudly enjoying every minute of it, without the need to answer embarrassing questions or hearing inappropriate comments from her friends; he had even bought that cute necklace for her, the tiny violin was representative of him, and his love of playing said instrument. But it still felt weird, it was as if something was lacking in their relationship and she still couldn't tell what it was.

His steady breathing and the heat of his body was reassuring, in the few potential intimate moments with him they had always stopped at the clothes line. That hadn't stopped her hands, or his to wander under the fabric though, or their bodies to show palpable evidence of arousal, but she wondered why neither of them was going further. Well, she knew her reason, of course, the last man she had been with in that way was Tom, and for a while she had expected him to be the only man she was going to be with for the rest of her life. They had been together, and she had taken advantage of his resemblance to Sherlock by playing some of her fantasies with him, and now it just felt wrong to be with 'the real one' feeling just a little bit guilty for not respecting the thoughts (naughty or not) that she had created for him. And obviously there was the 'thing' he'd had with Janine. If the newspapers were to be believed, then he wasn't all that "clean" him self, but she was trying not to think about that.

"_It's hard to give a name to this thing I'm feeling for you Molly, I'm still not quite sure what it is, but I'm not letting you go until I know for sure." _Those words still managed to make her blissfully happy and at the same time froze in fear. What if he concluded that it was all an experiment, a craving he was just trying to satiate by spending time with her? Was she just another experiment? Would he dump her just to treat her bad again? There was still chance of him deciding it was true love for her, but, how much could she expect from him then? Living together? Having children? She was certain Sherlock would agree to any of those given the chance in a late future, but never to a wedding like John and Mary's.

She caressed his head starting to feel sleepy, his dark curls bouncing from her fingers, if this relationship was meant to last many years or just another week, she would take it. Before this she had been prepared to loose hope, expecting it to never bring love again into her life, and she was ready to let it go if Sherlock ever decided to end it with her. Love had proved many times to be just painful for her, she could treasure the memory of having been with him, but she wouldn't survive having her heart break by anyone else after him.

* * *

John sighed once more, pacing once again the waiting room he was currently at. He pushed the dial button of his mobile again and waited for his best friend to pick up. Again the call was sent to voice mail, making him wonder why Sherlock, of all people would turn his mobile phone off. Was he making this because of the argument he had had with Molly the day before? By taking revenge over them when he was needed for important things like this? Hell, he had asked Lestrade to do this, how was he supposed to know what he wanted to do there?

The door to the management office of the Archives and Record Administration opened and the secretary stepped outside, carrying some folders.

-Mr. Watson. Thanks for waiting here, let me explain what you need to get access to our records; first of all you need to… - John listened carefully to the woman, who then enlisted all the things he needed to do before getting permission to access what ever Sherlock was looking for. From requesting the use of the facilities, to the different policies, revisions and training that one needed to complete before going into an actual research. - … we have contacts with excellent publishers if you want to publish your findings as a book or as an article on several media.

-Is that all?

-For starting, yes, it is. I'm sure you'll be able to answer further questions while you work.

-And what if my request of starting a short research is denied?

-I would advise you to try again, sometimes you just need to mention straight forward what you are trying to achieve with the investigation, but if you're planning to write a biography then the family or the government needs to approve, and if the person is alive, they may not grant you access to important pieces of information that you may not find in other sources.

-I think that's all I needed to know. Thank you very much. - Said John standing up and shaking the hand of the woman that had just explained why Sherlock would have to wait a month and a half to get into their files if he wanted to do it legally, fearing from that very moment the probable sue they would face if he intended to force his way in just to get the information. There should be another way, why hadn't he just asked Mycroft's help?

Walking out of the building he tried calling him again. When the voice mail default message started playing he finished the call and growled, he really needed someone to develop a chip to locate people like him. Entertaining thoughts about the possible uses for such invention John made his way back to his house. At least he had avoided being sent to France by his clever wife, something that Sgt. Donovan and another officer had to do now.

* * *

Molly woke up to what she considered to be the most beautiful pair of eyes in the world, being tightly held by its owner under a tangled mess of sheets and covers. Oh, she totally could get used to this.

-Molly… - he said in a whisper, the tone of his voice making her heart beat faster- I'm hungry. – To good to last longer. She giggled leaning forward to press her forehead over his shoulder.

-Could you please not use your sexy voice to ask for food? – She said rolling over him and kissing his cheek, noticing the pillow he was hugging last night was still between them.

-I wasn't aware that I had a 'sexy voice' as you called it; I was just trying to keep it low to avoid startling you this early. But if you want I can use it only for special purposes. – He said moving his hands over her back. – And let me suggest you to get a pair of warming socks, you almost made me jump out of bed a couple of times.

-Sorry. – She said starting to move out of the covers. – But I've found out that sleeping with socks keeps my feet cold all night, and without them they warm up sooner or later.

He stretched out on the bed, once she stood up; making her aware of the 'particular' state he was in. She felt herself blush but said noting and just walked to the kitchen, going straight to prepare coffee and reheat the spaghetti she had bought yesterday at that Italian restaurant, hopping the cheese they had added on top to melt again.

He walked into her kitchen, probably not caring about the kind of thoughts that could run through her mind at the 'sight', yawning loudly and running her hands through his hair, the fact that he had also thought on bringing his pajamas was not helping. She reminded herself that it wasn't the first time he was 'like that' around her, and tried to keep a normal behavior over the fact that this time she could see it rather than just being aware of the fact under the covers. It was weird how her imagination had been under control (providing her images that she could handle) with the feeling of the subtle contact, and now the simple view had her mind racing with thoughts that could make anyone blush.

They ate breakfast in calm, just talking about the quality of the spaghetti and the different things they liked from Italian cuisine. With the little chat Sherlock's morning state was forgotten as they found themselves talking about a case that had involved a chef and how Sherlock had deduced which of his employees was tampering his special sauce and causing many clients to get ill, thus helping him out of a sue and avoiding having to close his restaurant. They both enjoyed talking about the different things one could add to a tomato sauce to make it dangerous without risking a huge change in the flavor or color.

It was moments like this what had aided their friendship to start in the first place, and also what had make her give him free access to body parts and substances for his experiments, their mutual curiosity over facts that most people would never consider. Also their morbid sense of humor, if something could be told about them was that they would never lack a good topic of conversation, however weird for other people.

Every thing could have stayed that way if she hadn't chosen to make the cleaning of the breakfast table to the rhythm of her favorite music. She thought Sherlock had gone to change his clothes, but after a few minutes of moving with the music and singing random phrases of the songs she turned around dramatically only to find him watching from the door, still in his pajamas and bare feet.

-I was going to ask you where you keep clean towels to take a shower, but your choice of activity looks more interesting. – She knew her whole face was red; a faint blush was not enough in a moment like this. He walked towards her and spun her around with one arm, causing her to laugh. He then place his hands on her waist and started moving along with her in an awkward dance, pulling her to him one moment and making her spin around the other, moving their hips to the music and laughing until they ended up leaning against the wall with wide grins and panting.

-We should… go out someday, - he said, making her raise her eyebrows in surprise- … you know… to a place where we can dance like this. – He leaned forward and kissed her, she automatically wrapped her arms around him. They parted away, still trying to catch their breath, and she fanned her face with her hands. – Let me help you. - He said pulling her closer and starting to unbutton her top.

He stopped at the third button, noting what he was doing when Molly's white bra started showing, for a moment both doubted, the memories of certain Christmas party coming back to them, she should feel self conscious and stop him, but less than and hour ago he should had felt the same and that hadn't stopped him from walking around like that, so, to his surprise she reached out and undid the last two buttons, her face getting redder at her boldness. His expression turned serious, when he reached for her shoulders and started sliding the fabric downwards. She shivered a bit, not out of cold but by his eyes dropping to her body, she bit her lip fearing the critic that could fell from his mouth, but he just let his hands touch her lightly, letting his fingers run over the fabric. As if to ease the moment he kissed her forehead, and then reached for the hem of his t-shirt and pulled it off; pulling her closer and wrapping his arms around her, letting her head rest against him, where she could hear his fast heartbeat.

-You know, if dancing is going to end up with us doing this, we should keep dancing in doors. – She mumbled against his chest in a breathy voice.

-Is that your sexy voice Molly? – He said looking for her eyes, and using the same tone he had used in the morning. She smiled and then pulled him down and kissed him deeply.

-I don't know; I'm sure I can do better. – She said near his ear changing her tone just a bit, and feeling him shiver to her warm breath. They both chuckled a bit, feeling ridiculous hugging half naked in the kitchen.

-Where can I find clean towels? – He asked in the same tone, but she could sense his smile while his hands caressed her hair.

-In the cabinet next to the door. Keep asking things in that voice and you could find yourself getting something completely different to what you requested. – She said stepping back, taking her top from the floor and turning around to fill Toby's food bowl.

* * *

It was a while later that John and Lestrade arrived to Baker Street, they needed to contact Sherlock, and since his phone was out of reach the only thing they still could do was get him out of bed. John used his key, entering the building and they both climbed the stairs quickly.

-Sherlock! Open the door! – Shouted Lestrade knocking loudly. They waited a moment to give Sherlock time to get to the door.

-I'll do it. – Said John when there was no response from inside the apartment.

Once inside they found the place unusually silent. Not minding at all the privacy of his friend John walked towards the bedroom, almost kicking the door to enter; behind him Lestrade opened the door to the bathroom and they both turned to look at each other confused.

-He's not here.

-Where could he possibly be?

They walked back to the living room, looking at the usual mess that was over his desk. Something looked out of place, and it took a moment for John to realize that actually the 'mess' had certain order. For once the space in front and under the laptop was paper free, and Sherlock usually placed the machine over whatever was occupying that space without much thought. Then, the folders containing the case files were all pilled up to one side, some of the random notes the detective used to write whatever data or thought that he could research later were still messed under the folders. Books and notebooks were on the other side, and even the pencils and pens that he could never find when needed were now ordered inside the cup he had probably used to drink coffee last time. Obviously Sherlock hadn't done any of that, Mrs. Hudson had tried to do it once telling him that some order would probably make his life easier, to what he had responded by leaving a bigger mess on it the next day. So who could have ordered his desk and where was the body?

-John, why do you think Sherlock would bother to wash the dishes?

-Mmh? – John looked around and saw what Lestrade was talking about, there was obviously something wrong. Even in the worst cases, when they lived together and he wanted Sherlock to do the dishes, he had found himself with a pile of smelling dirty dishes and a bunch of disposable plates, cutlery and glasses before giving up and doing it himself, or finding that Sherlock somehow had managed to convince Mrs. Hudson to do it for him.

-Do you think he's finally doing things by himself? Maybe he went out to do his laundry.

John snorted, shaking his head at that impossible idea. If Sherlock Holmes was taking care of his house duties, then the man had finally gone crazy. – No, I don't think so; first he would pay anyone else to do this, than doing it himself. Somebody else did this, but who…

It was then that they heard the front door open, and then the hurried footsteps of someone on the stairs; they turned around just to see Sherlock opening the door and carrying a bag over his shoulder.

-What are you doing here? – He asked dropping the bag on the couch and taking off his coat.

-We were looking for you. Where were you?

-Taking a rest.

-Wh… So, you … Are you just coming back here since we last saw you yesterday?

Sherlock looked baffled only for a moment, - Of course not John, I came back here to get my bag and then I left.

-Where did you spend the night? - Asked Lestrade lifting an eyebrow inquiringly; a wide smirk appeared on the Consulting Detective's face.

-Does it matter? – He said walking towards his usual chair and adopting his thinking pose. – I'm well rested and ready to keep working, what do you have for me?

John sniffed the air. –Is that smell green apple? Sherlock, have you had visits recently? Or you just decided to change your shampoo?

-Nop. - Lestrade sighed and started telling him about who he had sent to take care of Mrs. Herbert housekeeper investigation, telling him when they were leaving and when he would be able to call them and ask them about their findings.

-Call me before, and I'll be here to take notes of anything they say, but I must warn you Sherlock, I've heard they're getting desperate with this case, if you don't solve it soon, we may need to close it.

-Don't worry; I'm already at the finish line. What did you found John?

-You are not going to like this. I went to ask about the procedures we need to finish to have access to their files and the whole thing takes at least a month to be completed, not many people is granted access there. You should reconsider asking Mycroft to make this quicker, otherwise you will need to look somewhere else.

-No, I cannot ask my brother this time… - Sherlock winced and his stomach made a weird noise- He would find a way to keep me from finding what I need… - the noise was heard again and this time Sherlock placed his hands over his stomach.

-Are you ok?

-I… I might not… Must have been the spaghetti… This, gentlemen is why I don't ever eat on a case. – He said standing up and running to the bathroom. The noises that followed his not so gracious retire made the two men in the living room share a disgusted look, before exploding in laughter.

Minutes later a very upset looking Sherlock reappeared in the living room. – It's not funny. – He said looking at Lestrade who was trying to compose himself but failing and John wiping tears from his eyes. A text message beeped and Sherlock pulled his mobile phone out of his pocket, he read the message and slapped his hand over his forehead.

-Too late. Could have warned me earlier.

-Who is it? – asked John still chuckling.

-Someone who had the misfortune to eat the same thing. Your advice Doctor Watson? - He said ready to send a reply message. John started laughing again, he took a deep breathe and mumbled a hurried and easy remedy for 'the problem'.

-Ok, if we're not going to be able to enter that place then I need to do some research … - he clutched his stomach- ok, maybe later… Some restaurants should warn their costumers about the expiration day of the cheese they used…

Another laughter fit was heard at his back when he turned around again, and he swore he would sue the owner of that restaurant.

* * *

-And we don't have cameras inside that flat, do we?

-No, your brother was very specific about the needs of all the people we secured, telling us what we could do, and where not to go.

-He's starting to trust many people, he should be more careful about his choices of friends. If anything, the incident with the "ex-boyfriend" is his fault for not allowing more security around that place. – Said Mycroft to Anthea checking the video of the security cameras near Molly's flat. – He could be doing any kind of stupid experiments with that woman, and wasting precious time… Authorize a group to set some cameras inside that flat, only the common areas and make them discrete, I don't want him to notice.

-Should we place some others at her work place?

-No, St. Bart's is highly protected and her boss sends me complete reports every time he does an experiment there. The flat will cover it, thanks for telling me about this.

-No problem sir.


	10. Plans (doubts and suspicion)

**Sorry for the delay (not really too late, but late anyway), my antique of a computer has been having problems, just to give you and idea it keeps asking me if it's really the midnight of a fourth of January of 1980 whenever I turn it on, also the screen keeps making only lines and when it actually has image the color red is missing, so, yes, I might need to get a new computer soon. One would want to keep the old machine, but more than ten years of working hard require changes (don't ask me why I hadn't changed it in all that time, I can't really tell you, but yes, it's the same computer where I wrote my very first fanfics all those years ago), things are that bad that I cannot connect it to internet, hence why I update at a rental centre.**

**Now, the story, I originally intended to end the story when the case was solved, but there might be still more to come even after that, as you can see the characters are already starting to notice that something is going on, the Mycroft's bit at the end of the last chapter was really interesting, and I really want to have him wondering for a while, I have plans for John, so don't misjudge him, and Mrs. Hudson is also returning in the next chapter to make things a bit more difficult for our couple =D. I leave you to chapter 10 (Yey!), read, enjoy and if you want please review.**

* * *

**10. - Plans (Doubts and suspicion).**

-What now? - asked Mary looking up from the book she was reading when John entered the living room, huffing and muttering something before dropping himself on his chair right next to her.

-Do you really need to ask? - said John running his fingers over his face and through his hair.

-Ok, then what has Sherlock done this time?

-That's the thing. He's doing all sorts of random things and I can't follow him every where. I don't even know what kind of 'other things' he might be doing! He's supposed to be busy with THE CASE.

-Why? - She said opting for closing her book and pay full attention to her husband.

John looked at her. Not sure where to begin with the retelling of the busy day he just had. He sighed and chuckled as the memories of the early hours of the day came to his mind…

* * *

John was sure that something other than the various viruses that had somehow managed to make his friend get sick had gotten into him. How was it possible that they were outside the very building he had told him not to enter illegally? And waiting for a highly respected Detective Inspector from Scotland Yard, of all things; this was going to get them into trouble.

Sherlock was checking something on his mobile, and that left him with the task to tell him when Lestrade arrived.

-Is not really that difficult to move inside the building, their organization is something to be admired. But I'm going to need you to make a distraction, and that's where Gilbert can help you…

-Sherlock, this is not going to work. You told them to increase their security a while ago, I would think they actually asked Mycroft to help them with it, and I'm sure he thought of ways to stop YOU beforehand.

Sherlock was about to say something when a car stopped in front of them and the DI stepped out of it.

-Ah, Lestrade, come here, I need to know what you think could be a good distraction.

-Distraction? - said Lestrade looking at John shaking his head and then to the Consulting Detective that was still looking at some pictures in his mobile.

-Yes, I need to get some information that I'm sure they have in there to proceed with the investigation, now, I have found some points in this map that I could easily use to enter, but to keep the attention away from me I need you two to cause a distraction for both situations, entering and leaving, that's why John is going to help me get in and you are taking me out. Once I …

-Wait, wait, wait. – said Lestrade moving his hands in a gesture to stop him. – You want to go in there? – Sherlock nodded – And you want us to help you?

-Is that hard to understand? – said Sherlock with raised eyebrows.

It was Lestrade turn to shake his head; he crossed his arms in front of him and looked to John.

-I've already told him not to do it. Do you think he even hears me? - said John looking pointedly at Sherlock.

The man shifted his gaze from John to Lestrade, who were both looking at him with crossed arms.

-Sorry Sherlock, but I'm not going to help you. - said John.

-You already had enough troubles after what happened with Magnussen. You can't expect me to help you break the law.

Sherlock had a surprised expression over his face; he straightened his stance and turned serious.

-Very well. - He said turning around and walking towards the building.

-What do you think about some coffee? – said John still looking at Sherlock's back.

-Why not. I'm sure he'll need us in about half an hour; it'll help pass the time.

They waited inside Lestrade's car, drinking their tea and talking about Greg's ex-wife and how Sophie had changed John's life while hearing to some music. A little while later, Lestrade's mobile rang.

-What is it? ... Mhm… Yes, yes, don't worry, I'll handle it. – He said ending the call and turning to John. -Come on; let's get him before anything worse happen. – Johns chuckled and exited the car. They climbed the stairs towards the entrance of the building, almost laughing at the view right behind the glass doors where Sherlock was being watched by two guards, with his hands at his back, probably handcuffed.

Inside Lestrade showed his ID and after some words he led Sherlock to his car, still handcuffed and not looking at them. Once beside the car John opened the door and Lestrade pushed Sherlock inside it, slamming the door and then walking around to get in the car himself.

The silence between the three men inside the car was a tense, and they stayed like that for about two minutes before Sherlock started moving uncomfortably in the back seat.

-I think you can un-cuff me now. – He said effectively making John and Lestrade start laughing. – Are you two making a habit off this?

John and Lestrade both turned around to see him, at first wondering why he thought it was an habit, but then remembering the last time he had done something to make them both laugh like this, only to start laughing again.

-This is annoying. If you had helped me this would have never happened. – Lestrade gestured to John and gave him the keys to Sherlock's handcuffs.

-You shouldn't have ignored us, we did tell you not to do it, the chance of this working with our help wasn't better than you going alone. – He told him turning around and giving Lestrade his keys before he started the car.

-I could have used the time. – said Sherlock rubbing his wrists.

-Listen; if we had helped you the three of us would be now in the backseat of another car and I wouldn't be able to use my keys to let us free, much less find a good reason to avoid staying a night in prison. – said Lestrade driving them into the traffic now.

-Mary would be very mad if that had happened. – Said John looking through the window, the remaining of his laugh disappearing.

-And I don't really want to think what could happen if I had to cancel my plans for tonight. – said Sherlock leaning against the back of the seat.

-What kind of plans? – asked John frowning.

-It's nothing you will find interesting John.

The rest of the ride was spent in silence; John was curios about his friend's plans for later, since the man never used to be out at nights, especially since they were supposed to be working still on the case. Thinking that it was better to find out other day John returned to his house.

* * *

-Where do you think he was going? – asked Mary after hearing that part of John's retelling.

-I don't know. I just hope he's not trying to enter the building again tonight, if he is there's no way me or Lestrade or even Mycroft will be able to keep him from a day or two in jail.

-He's so lucky that you two had been there when the guards reported him. I can't believe he almost got himself in prison like that. Early in the morning!

-Well, that's not all the things that happened today.

-Please go on, this is really entertaining.

* * *

After spending some time online talking to the not so happy Sgt. Donovan, Sherlock decided that he could spend the rest of the day at one of his favorite places, so he headed to St. Bart's, he needed to ask for some favors anyway.

Once there he walked towards the morgue, feeling somehow more exited to be there than any previous time. The stomach problem they had had after eating spaghetti hadn't lasted long thanks to John's professional advice, and later that day he had called Molly and they both spent a couple of hours complaining about the food, that led to a chat about good restaurants and places where they could enjoy a good meal, and somehow they had ended making plans to see each other for dinner the next day.

He was never one to "hang out" (as people said), to fancy restaurants… or any public place, there were lots of people, it was overwhelming. But Molly's company was something he had started to enjoy, John understood him and they talked a lot about many interesting topics, but some of the things he thought were fun, his friend tended to dislike and he had endured long explanations as to why those were not really topics he should talk about with other people; Molly on the other hand, had her own share of non-conventional topics and, unlike John, she could talk deep and detailed about those things with him and never complain about his humor, so he was actually looking forward to their meeting that night.

He found her working on a corpse, a quick glance told him that the young man that was laying on the table had died in a car accident, judging by the injuries and bruises that he could see, another car was responsible of the crashing, good student, was in relatively good health, no bad habits, only child… he was going to be really missed by his mother. He didn't mention any of that to Molly, who looked at him from underneath her goggles and smiled. Sherlock approached the table and lifted the report that she was filling, most of her observations were really accurate and the reminder of why she was _his pathologist_ made him smile.

-It's not the usual corpse that has you coming down here. – She told him rearranging some organs inside the body, signaling that she was about to finish the procedure.

-I'm not here to see a body. Not this time.

-Should I feel honored?

-Probably. – He said walking around the table and kissing her cheek. – I actually need some things, but that requires calling some people and asking a few favors, I was hopping you could help me.

-What do you need? – She said preparing a needle to start sewing the body.

-Well for a change this time I don't need you to help me fake my death, or to make any false paperwork. I need my family's medical records, mine too but those I can easily get, I could ask for Mycroft's but I'm not really interested in him.

-Why do you need that for? – She said turning her head to look at him that was currently at her back with his arms around her waist; did he know what he made her feel?

-Well I need to know more about some particular issues about my relatives, also I need to remember something and that could probably help me a little more, but I need to get this in the most discrete way possible, and I need you to promise not to look at them before I do.

-O…k... So, are those records here at Bart's?

-Nop. – He said looking for something in his coat's pocket, then showing her a piece of paper with a list, lowering his head until it was over her shoulder. – My parent's records should be in the first one and some other members of my family too, I know some of them are not going to be found, but ask for all the records they have at this place, then ask at the others, I don't expect you to get each one of them, just try to get as many as you can.

-What should I tell them? Why would I need your family records? - She asked frowning and struggling to finish the autopsy with Sherlock still behind her.

-John said the best way to avoid that question is to claim the confidential clause between a doctor and a patient, as to who is your patient, you can say it's me and that you and John are the usual doctors taking care of me, which you are, also that way we make sure the records arrive directly to your office, down here, where I can check them without trouble. I told John about this and he said he will help me go through them later, so you wouldn't be lying.

-But I'm a pathologist.

-And that's exactly why you are interested and asking for some files of my deceased relatives, you can say John is interested in the living ones. – This time she shook herself, trying to make Sherlock step away, she was still using bloodied gloves and didn't want to touch him like that.

-Uhm, Sherlock, could you please release me? I need to finish this, clean up, put Freddie away and … - Sherlock's hands traveled upwards and finally stopped when his fingers curled around her, giving a light squeeze making a shiver ran up her spine and her heartbeat race, he kissed her other cheek and then stepped away.

-You're right, we'll have time for this later tonight and "Freddie" here was underage, and clearly we can't do this sort of things in front of him. – Molly sighed, trying to stay calm, but if the look in her eyes had anything to say, was that maybe he should have waited… yes, probably it could have worked better in a more private place; leaving the needle over Freddie's body she turned around and with at an admiring speed she lifted her arms over his shoulders, careful not to touch him with her still gloved hands, and pulled him down to kissed him.

The next thing Sherlock noticed was Molly hurrying her sewing work and quickly rolling the body to the other room, faster than he had ever saw her work; she didn't even spend a moment to clean when suddenly she was kissing him again, it was wrong, anyone could enter and see them, but he wasn't going to stop her, especially not when she was taking revenge and was currently using her hands to make him shudder this time.

A few minutes later, unfortunately a text message interrupted them, and Sherlock left with the promise of that night's dinner. Not even minding the skeptical look on John's eyes when he arrived to Lestrade's office to start checking the first report sent by the team at France.

-You'll be happy to know that Mrs. Herbert housekeeper's name is Nicola Staton, that confirms his identity as the person who sent our past victim a while ago to buy drugs, the other employees say that this man has been working for years wit the Herbert's, surprisingly there are no complains about his work. Donovan told me that you reminded her to ask about the drugs; well it seems this man indulges in them only on his free days, when he usually goes to visit a friend in the town, further questioning about that friend led to an empty house, they found nothing in the areas they walked in.

They also asked the local police to get them an order to investigate the room where he lives, and to have access to a part on the empty house where they found a highly locked door that seemed out of place, I asked why they just didn't broke in, but the place is private property and Sally thought there could be possible consequences if they did. A quick interview with Mr. Herbert proved that he was the owner of the Special K found in Ms. Lawrence body, and he claimed not having knowledge of it being missing, saying that the only person with an emergency spare copy to the place is his housekeeper, the security cameras inside his vet surgery showed Mr. Staton entering the place with a kid, the boy handed him the bottle and he gave him some money in exchange, the boy was reported missing a while ago.

-If by tomorrow they are finally able to enter those places and make a proper report, ask the French police to keep a watch on the empty house and surroundings, maybe Staton's friend is already here as well, but lets not take risks, also send notice to the stations here in the area for a blind man with Staton's description, any sighting could tell us where they're hiding.

-Then, can I say we're already heading to the end and solution of this case?

-We will probably be solving it during the next week.

-Is that a lipstick stain on the collar of your shirt? – asked John, talking for the first time during that evening.

Lestrade looked at him surprised. – Of course not John. How do you think lipstick would get to my shirt?

-It could be – said Lestrade this time, leaning a little to take a better look at Sherlock's shirt.

-It's just a stain, it could be blood for all I know, since just a while ago I was at Bart's talking with Molly while she worked on a body.

-Why were you there?

-I had to ask her a favor; I'll talk with you, John, later about it.

-You've been seeing Molly more often than usual, is there something we need to know? – asked Lestrade in a casual way.

-Like what? – asked Sherlock suddenly very interested in trying to look at the stain.

-I don't know, maybe you two are working together on something, knowing you two I wouldn't be surprised to find a paper published by both about some forensics science stuff. – Said the Detective in his most casual voice.

-In any case – said Sherlock looking back at Lestrade – I wouldn't be spoiling your reading of said article, not that you would read it, is not your area. – He checked his clock. – Any way, I'll be busy later so please contact me in the morning. Come on John, I need to talk with you and we better hurry.

* * *

-I don't know what he could have told Molly to convince her to do this, is not really something we should do, but you know how weird he can be.

-So now you have to do lots of paperwork for the hospital to justify the need of those records. John, I know you've been complaining about that girl that is replacing me, and I'm sure you have a mountain of paperwork that still needs work, how are you going to do all of that?

-I'll have to bring some files here… - John huffed and then looked angry once again. – And he even had the nerve of telling me to leave because he was running late for some appointment he has…

-Don't worry John; if you bring those files here I'll do my usual work and help you. Sophie spends most of the time asleep, I'm sure I can do some work meanwhile and that way you won't spend that much time in front of your desk at work. I know how much you love running around with Sherlock.

-Thank you Mary. – said John looking for the TV remote, Mary place her book on the side of the couch and reached for the phone.

-Are we ordering pizza tonight? – John asked looking at his wife dialing.

-No, I'm calling Molly.

-What for? - said John looking at Mary who was now waiting for the phone to be answered. Mary lifted a finger to stop him from talking and lifted her eyebrows.

-Hello Molly! How are you? … Just wanted to talk with you… I see, fine, I'll call you tomorrow then… Yeah, good luck, be careful…

Mary hung up then, looking back again to her husband.

-And? – urged John, unable to hide his curiosity.

-Well, apparently she was going out somewhere, actually someone knocked on her door while we were talking. - John waved a hand inviting her to continue. – Connect the dots John! Sherlock said he had plans for tonight, he even make you hurry, Molly is going out as well, I don't think is a coincidence that the only time Sherlock is actually going somewhere without you at an specific hour, is the same night that Molly goes out since the last time she dated someone.

* * *

Sherlock and Molly were still laughing at a very funny case that he had worked on a while ago, this time the details of the deaths involved in the case weren't the main point, but the actual reason and affairs between the murderer and her beloved, they were walking back towards Molly's flat, Sherlock's explanation requiring him to try to made her visualize the scene and some different tools, the guard at the other side of the street in the building where he kept his watch, took his mobile and sent a text reporting their arrival and made sure to allow the remote connection with the computer that had asked him to transmit the recordings to be enabled before activating the cameras inside the apartment. A reply made his mobile beep, and he took a last glance through his binoculars to the couple entering the place.

Mycroft turned on his laptop and started the program to see what the cameras were recording at that moment. Sherlock and the pathologist entered the room and took off their coats, both still laughing to some stupid anecdote that his brother seemed to be enjoying retelling, well that was nothing useful, for a moment he regretted not adding microphones to the security there, but he had heard about the musical tastes of the woman and he wasn't really interested in hearing those when checking the videos later.

The couple headed to the living room, sitting next to each other, Sherlock had taken off his jacket as well and he was now rolling up the sleeves of his shirt, was he intending to become some kind of hippie, with no care at all of his appearance in front of other people? Hhm, well the shy doctor had taken off her shoes and lifted her feet over the couch so his brother was still on the safe line…

He wondered what had happened that now they were just looking at each other and with the dullest smile possible, he watched in surprise how his brother leaned closer to the girl. Was he being possessed? Not possible, there was no proof of the existence of spirits or ghosts, and if they existed they wouldn't posses his brother to do… Oh my god, was he really going to…? Apparently Sherlock's phone was ringing, he saw his brother upset expression before he actually stood up and somehow apologized to his hostess by giving her an awkward hug…

He saw him leave with a relief sigh, maybe what he had almost seen happen had been just part of the weird atmosphere that had been around them since they walked out of the restaurant, he knew that there were situations where following the natural flow of a situation was hard to evade, and he really hopped that his brother was just caught off ward. He gave a last look to the pathologist who was now lying on the couch pulling at her necklace with a dreamy look on her face and then turned off the program. Had he been in full health his next step would have been to pay a visit to his brother, but given his current state he had to think of something else…

* * *

**Here joining the slightly heart-broken crowd of fangirls that still wishes Benedict all the happines in the world and congratulations on his upcoming nuptials! *cries* (come on girls we have a wedding to plan and an infiltration plan to start to be at the wedding, only i live to far and i don't think i'll make it =P)[never mind me i'm still crazy]**


	11. Details

**Still trying to work with this horrible machine, I'll try to work with it and keep my self from slapping the *** monitor, it may not be on time, but I'll try to keep it weekly. I have a question for you; do you think that I should change the rating? I know I said that it was going to stay at 'T', but I'm starting to panic with how much this has been progressing, so please just tell if you think I should.**

**This time we have visits at Baker Street, Mrs. Hudson is back, so now Sherlock will be facing some troubles to keep things under the water, also there is an unexpected person coming, but is it good or bad? Not much about the case here, but I can't delay it very much now, we're solving the case soon and with that the end of this fic will be near as well. Thank you all for reading, enjoy, and review (guests comments are welcome too).**

* * *

**11. - Details**

Sherlock hurried his steps to get to the train platform, he knew it was part of the deal to go, but the timing couldn't have been worse. He walked towards where Mrs. Hudson was waiting for him, sitting on a bench with her baggage next to her and the always sweet smile she offered to him. Seeing her actually eased his mood, but it wasn't enough to make up for having to leave Molly after such a delightful dinner, not with how much he had waited to spend time alone with her.

Mrs. Hudson stood up when he reached her and hugged him tightly, and then she started talking about how he hadn't really taken to much time to get there, about helping her with her bags, and then about the train journey and the people she had seen during it, and then about her general visit to her sister and every piece of gossip she had heard while being away…

He loved her, he wasn't going to deny it, Mrs. Hudson was an amazing lady and she was tolerant enough to put up with him even with all the quirks he came with. But if there was something Sherlock was never going to get fond of was the incredible ability of his landlady to speak about everything, every time she could, and for longer than he was comfortable with. Still he didn't said anything to stop her, maybe if he was patient he would be able to flee by the moment she was settled safely inside her apartment with her herbal soothers, and that could be immediately after arriving to Baker Street if he just kept listening.

-…I also spent some time knitting some things for John's daughter, I can't wait to see them, maybe tomorrow I'll take the time to visit him, or you could just be a sweetheart and tell him to come by. Oh, but I'm sure Mary must be delighted with her daughter, Sophie must have grown a lot since I left, maybe some of the things I knitted won't fit her now. – She kept saying at entering 221B, and walking towards the kitchen while Sherlock placed her bags next to the door, not even planning on taking off his coat. She returned a moment later, a tray with a freshly opened pack of cookies that he wasn't sure where it had came from. – I've been reading John's blog as well, my nephew brought a new computer and the machine works wonderfully, he even had pictures of you and John, and there was also one where that lovely girl Molly appears. I hope you are already working of the solution of this case, it's keeping me alert and I don't like having sleeping troubles, you know how much my sister dislikes my use of the herbal soothers…

Sherlock sighed, not really paying full attention to what the old lady was saying; he took a cookie and started to move towards the door.

-Are you leaving now Sherlock?

-I… was just… I'm sure you'll love to talk about all of this again tomorrow with the others, I was thinking of calling John to agree on a time, I know you might be tired and are probably going to get those herbal soothers, so I was… giving you the space.

-Oh, don't worry Sherlock, I actually took a nap on the train, I thought I wasn't going to be able, because there was this woman with her children behind me and her little baby was crying, poor creature may had had colic, and the other two were in the age where kids just run around if they're bored, I was thinking of telling her about a remedy for the baby, but it's really not use when you are on a train, so I took my book out and before I knew it I was asleep, so right now I'm not too tired, and I want to know how much I have to worry, this case's got on my nerves, and I'll really much appreciate if you were to be here.

Ok, so maybe he wasn't going to be able to go back to Molly's… He undid his scarf and unbuttoned his coat; there was no use in keeping them on if he was going to walk back to his apartment after this.

-You can sleep well tonight, I'll be upstairs, as I told you, calling John to see if he and Mary can come tomorrow, the security of the house is working properly so you don't have anything to worry about. I'm sure that if you try you will find that you're still quite tired, so I recommend you to go to bed now.

-But I was going to make some tea.

-I just had dinner, sorry Mrs. Hudson, I'll see you tomorrow. – And with that he turned around and headed upstairs to his apartment, he hooked up his coat and scarf sighing once again and taking his mobile phone.

**Can't go back tonight. Sorry. SH.**

He sent that message first and then started typing a second one to John, the phone vibrated in his hand while he was sending it.

_It's ok, we'll find time. Definitely tomorrow! x MH._

He smiled at it, then John's reply confirmed his visit as well, and having nothing more to do for the night he took his violin and played it for a while.

* * *

The following day, right after listening to Mrs. Hudson's retelling of her trip, and just before he lost his patience, John and his lovely family arrived. Thankfully Mary and Sophie were all that Mrs. Hudson was concerned about. That leaving John the duty to make Sherlock calm down once again, something not difficult to achieve because he had already finished the required paperwork to receive and work with the medical records he had requested, the notice made Sherlock smile and start to talk about how they were going to be working and that he was actually expecting Lestrade to call him tomorrow with Donovan's update.

The ladies called them a while later, and Mrs. Hudson was completely happy to be retelling the story of her time away, life at Baker Street was never boring with a tenant like Sherlock, but Mrs. Hudson was a gossip fanatic and having someone to actually tell what she had heard about people made her happy. Mary was polite enough to receive the knitted clothes she had done for Sophie, the majority of them were small and she was not going to be able to use them, but a few items were still useful.

Mrs. Hudson was trying to dress Sophie into a horrendous purple and brown knitted jumper, and Mary was looking at it as if trying to think in the best way to get rid of it later, when there was a knock on the door, being the nearest to the door John went to open, not without hearing a woman's voice talking on the other side.

-I told you it was a good moment, his friends are also here so he must be in a good mood… - said a woman at the other side of the door.

John lifted his eyebrows and opened the door to a woman he had seen only once before, and the person escorting her was a clear sign that this had been planned with a specific purpose, knowing there was no escape from this for him or for Sherlock he smiled widely and invite them in.

-Good afternoon Mrs. Holmes, I see Anthea is with you, are you visiting your boys?

-Hello John, so long since we last met. – The elder woman hugged him before entering the flat, followed by Anthea who had her eyes fixed to the screen of her mobile. Sherlock literally jumped out of his chair, fixing a weak and nervous smile at the sight of his mother entering the apartment.

-Mum, to what do I own the pleasure? – He said trying to ignore the stares of Mary and Mrs. Hudson.

-Your brother called me, he said he was feeling a bit lonely and bored and wouldn't mind some company. – Said Mrs. Holmes hugging him too, and completely missing the glance shared between John and her son. – I thought of coming here too, since I was near and it's not often I see you both; but I can see you already have visits, and what a great view is this. – She said stepping away from him and hurrying towards Mary and Mrs. Hudson stretching her arms to take Sophie, saving her to Mary's relief from Mrs. Hudson's jumper…

Sherlock moved discreetly towards Anthea, who had moved inside the flat and was now standing next to the couch, looking at the other three women.

-Why are you here Anthea? – Sherlock whispered knowing very well that his brother had an evil plan behind this.

-Your brother told me to take her where ever she wanted. She wanted to come here, so… - she said never taking her eyes from the screen.

He sighed and rolled his head in an attempt to relax a bit, this kind of things always managed to make him tense. His mother was now making an honest and innocent remark about the terrible combination of colors of the little jumper something that didn't seem to be a very good idea, judging by the slightly hurt expression of his landlady. Looking at the mortified expression on Mary's face John searched for something to distract the attention and return to a safer topic.

- So, what were we going to have then, are we having some food delivered or would you prefer to cook something? Its good hour, we could eat all together since we have to leave before dinner.

-I think it's better if we buy, neither Mrs. Hudson nor I had enough groceries to prepare something anyway, do you want something in particular mother? John and I can go and get it, it would be faster. – Suggested Sherlock with a smile.

-Oh, now that you mention it, your brother send me with his lovely PA and told me that if we were going to eat something we could ask her to order it and he was paying, so let's take advantage of that. – Said his mother with a smile, Sherlock lifted his eyebrows at this comment… What was Mycroft's planning to do?

Some minutes later they had already agreed on what to order, and Anthea had of course placed the order before Sherlock could once again suggest that he and John went out to buy it.

-Seems like you have no escape this time mate- said John standing next to him in the kitchen, watching the ladies talk and laugh.

-This is Mycroft's idea, but I don't know what he wants to get from this, surely my mother's visit is just a distraction, but Anthea is not showing signs of looking for something in particular either. – Sherlock then took his mobile phone from his pocket, and started dialing before John could stop him. – Mycroft…

-* Hello brother dear, having fun with Mumy? *- Said Mycroft at the other side of the line.

-You know I'm happy to receive Mumy here, but honestly Mycroft. What is it this time? - asked Sherlock clearly annoyed.

-*I don't know what you are talking about … I'm recovering Sherlock, believe it or not I did ask our mother to come, I still have to endure another three weeks before starting the rehabilitation of my broken leg, I thought she would enjoy spending some days with me.*

-Then why is she here? Don't you need her to keep you 'company' for a while? I'm sure you haven't run out of ideas.

-*No, but even I have to accept that my mother can get bored with me, it's understandable, I can't walk much right now and you know how much she likes to go out. And not even you can keep her from wanting to visit.*

-Right, and what's that about you paying for our meal?

-*Pure courtesy brother, I'm sure you've done it before. Or do we really need to explain why we would pay dinner for a lovely woman? … Surely Ms. Hooper didn't feel the need to ask, did she?* - With that the call ended, and Sherlock placed the phone over the table next to him, feeling a bit shocked, it was not weird that Mycroft knew about him taking Molly to dinner last night, but he couldn't stop wondering how much he knew, he wasn't afraid of him discovering it, but he still had a few weeks to go to be able to win the bet…

Another knock on the door called his attention, and stopped John from asking what Mycroft had told him. Moving quickly this time he opened the door. He felt the blood drain from his face and rush to his ears, at the sight of Molly standing outside the door, which he closed behind him quickly. He had to contain his need to compliment her attire or curse his luck out loud. It was going to be impossible to ignore her, why was she wearing skin tight jeans? Did she know that her blouse was light enough to let him see a bit through it? And why would she have to wear her hair loose today of all days?

He lifted a hand to stop her when she was about to speak, or it was going to be a lot more difficult not to kiss her. He sighed, and tried to calm his fast beating heart, he was going to talk with Mycroft; it couldn't be a coincidence that he had just called him, mentioned her briefly and the next moment Molly was arriving. She murmured something about having good news for him, and then entered the flat before him.

-Hello. Good afternoon. – She said once she saw the women and the baby on the couch; she waved at John and then approached the others to greet them individually.

-Hello Molly. – greeted Mary widening her smile.

-Good afternoon sweetheart – said Mrs. Hudson with a nod.

-Good afternoon. – Said Mrs. Holmes looking at her in appreciation. – I've never seen you before, - she said standing up- what's your name?

-Uhm… I'm Molly Hooper, nice to meet you Mrs. …?

-Holmes. Alice Holmes, I'm Sherlock's mother. – Molly opened her mouth in comprehension and then smiled and shook Mrs. Holmes hand.

-It's a pleasure to meet you.

-Same thing dear, now tell me from where do you know my son? He almost never speaks about women, and whenever I heard of one it's often from the news or it's an unlucky victim of his cases, so I suppose that makes you special.

-Ah, well, I don't think that never being mentioned makes me special at all, but Sherlock is a very particular man; I guess I help him, I work at the morgue and that's probably why he works with me, because I work with… dead bodies… and this is probably not what you wanted to hear. – Said Molly looking at Sherlock for help.

Mrs. Holmes looked at her for a moment, and then patted her hand in a reassuring way. – Surprisingly it is; I wouldn't expect an ordinary girl to be able to tolerate him, but if you can handle him and the heavy duty of dealing with corpses and specially with those that must look terrible in my son's choice of job then you really are special. You two must be very good friends if you share common likes, if that curious and lovely violin hanging from your neck has anything to say, that and the obvious like for dead things. - Sherlock couldn't help but notice the way his mother was looking at details on Molly, or the way Anthea seemed to be writing what her mother was saying at high speed on her phone, also the way she flashed him her 'You-can't-hide-things-from-me-young-man' look before winking and walking back to the couch. – We are waiting for the food to arrive; you should join us I never had real chance to get to know Sherlock's friends, he and Mycroft use to scare each others friends, not that Mycroft had many, but Sherlock used to feel bad about it.

A while later, after the food arrived and Mrs. Holmes had chastised Anthea and managed to make her put her mobile aside (something admirable) and eat with them, she even had to answer a few questions about herself and that made her forget her beloved gadget for a while. They returned to the living room, John and Sherlock in their usual chairs, Mary, Mrs. Hudson and Mrs. Holmes using the couch, and Anthea holding Sophie on the chair next to the desk, leaving Molly standing, she was about to go for a chair in the kitchen when she felt Sherlock take her hand.

-Sit here, on the armrest of my chair; I am not really participating of the conversation. – Thinking that there was nothing wrong with it, she sat there, with her back to him. John looked at Sherlock with questioningly, until he saw the bored expression on his face.

They had ice cream for dessert, and the constant moving of Molly next to him was distracting, something that made John laugh when Sherlock stared at her bottom, after a mildly funny joke told by Mary, the pathologist started laughing, she loose balance and fell backwards, Sherlock barely had time to move his ice cream cup out of the way before Molly landed on his lap. She turned red, with the smile flattering on her lips, and the ice cream smeared over her cheek; he could barely cover his own blush, before helping her on her feet and standing up himself, she apologized and hurried to the bathroom, while he walked towards the kitchen to leave his cup. John stood up and approached the kitchen, pretending he wasn't hearing that Molly was now talking with Sherlock.

-I think we managed to escape for a minute or two, that was… not good; but listen, I got you some news. – She told him entering the kitchen a moment later and making a gesture and pretending to wipe sweat from her forehead. – I received an e-mail today, from the hospitals you told me to ask for your family's medical records. – John sighed, had they planned to do this? When? It certainly hadn't looked like it a moment ago. Was she making it up? Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to let her spend all that time with Sherlock. – They didn't ask as many questions as I was expecting and they have not trouble with sending them to my apartment, the pack will arrive the day after tomorrow in the evening. Now, I should probably head back or this would be suspicious, Mrs. Hudson keeps wondering when you started cleaning your apartment and your mother seems to think that I would know if you pay somebody to do it.

-Thank you very much Molly- said Sherlock smiling, and for a brief moment John wondered if he had heard right, he knew about Molly's feelings, and having spent sometime living with Sherlock had taught him to read the emotions in his best friend. He couldn't deny the existence of those feelings there, but Sherlock was not really good at identifying what he was feeling, so his doubts about them being in a relationship wasn't because they couldn't be in one, but because it would be hard for Sherlock to understand and take the chance to embrace them and work out a relationship. Of course Molly was doing a great job with it, and he was happy to see that Sherlock was starting to open to her.

* * *

It was late by the time the Watsons left, Mrs. Hudson had excused herself with still having things to unpack and prepare after being away that long, and before leaving, his mother had told him to accompany Molly back to her apartment, saying that it wasn't safe to let her go on her own, and of course he hadn't complained about it.

On their way to her flat, the mood eased a bit, and Sherlock was able to relax a little and tell Molly everything that had happened during the day, he had never been comfortable with people around him, and least of all with too many women.

-Don't worry; I know something that will help you. – They entered the flat and this time nothing stopped Sherlock from kissing her right there, she helped him to take his coat off and the pulled him towards the living room.

-Come on Sherlock; take off your shoes as well. – He did as he was told leaving his shoes next to the couch. – You know what, I think this will work better if you are lying down – She said looking in the direction of her room. He smiled and pulled her on her feet again, capturing her lips with his. It didn't take long for them to head to the bedroom.

Once in there he sat down and wondered what she had in mind, until he felt her push him over the mattress and making him turn around, until he was over his front. The weight shift next to him and her hands come to rest on his shoulders, she placed a light kiss to his nape making him shiver a bit, and then she started massaging his back, from the top of his shoulders and downwards, at first he felt weird, not used to the touch, but when she worked on his tired muscles he found himself moaning lightly, she was on her knees and every now and then he could feel her breath against his skin.

When she finished she lay next to him, still at his back, he shifted in place putting his head against her shoulder while she wrapped her arms around him, placing her hands on his chest and a kiss on his cheek. He looked at her from that position and then turned around to face her, her arms never leaving him.

He kissed her, pulling her by the waist until she was pressed against him, as he had expected the kiss soon turned heated, and before he could give more thought to it his hands were already caressing her back and sliding over sensible parts of her body. Her lips traveled from his mouth to his jaw and then to his neck, busy enjoying the feeling of her in his arms he didn't stop her when her hands started unbuttoning his shirt, when she slid it from his shoulders he found himself in known territory and helped her to take it off, working her blouse quickly after it.

A moment later Molly moved again and rolled over him, straddling him, both their hands and lips exploring the others skin founding new reactions. He had felt the arousal start; he had also seen the signals of it on Molly, her darkened pupils, her pulse, and the blush on her skin. Distracted as he was it was a surprise to suddenly found one of her hands working the button of his trousers, when he hadn't even noticed where his belt had gone. He looked at her confused, but when she guided his hands towards the button of her jeans in a clear invitation, brushing slightly over the tight fabric that was restraining him, he acted without further thinking.

She stood up just long enough to help him take his trousers off, and then he pulled her over the bed, taking the hem of her jeans and pulling them down too. The fact that she was using skinny jeans made it, in his opinion, better, allowing him to slide his hands on her legs while taking them off. He then found himself above her, both only wearing their underwear, panting and aroused.

It seemed like the best moment to stop… or to keep going; Molly seemed to be having doubts of her own, but she pulled him to her and wrapped her arms around him. He was a bit concerned about crushing her with his weight, but her hands wouldn't let him pull away.

-Sherlock… ahm…- their breathing was still heavy and feeling her warm breath on his neck was not helping his self control.

-Do you… uhm want to… stop? – He said feeling her shiver at his words, he kissed her neck from that position only because it was difficult not to, with the feeling of her beneath him.

-Not really… but, maybe its not good idea to… go all the way. – She moved her hands over his back and used one of her feet to slide it next to his leg.

-What do you suggest? - He said lifting himself a bit to see her; they shared a light kiss before he pressed his forehead to hers.

-Just… oh, god… let's just keep the underwear on. – Molly then kissed him again, pressing her body to his and moaning at the contact, he started caressing her in response, moving his body over her in a delightful friction.

* * *

Once back at Mycroft's Mrs. Holmes excused herself for a minute, knowing very well that her son had something in mind, and wondering how much she had been able to distract Anthea once she understood what it was all about. She needed to think how to handle the situation, she had been after all the one that started her children into the deductive skills and she had her own of course, an first she had taught them because it was supposed to be something they could use to interact with the world, not a life style. She sighed, thinking about what she had seen at her younger son's apartment.

Sherlock had always been messy, and she had been surprised to find his apartment in a relative ordered state, she had thought that maybe his landlady had once again taken care of that, but when the lady had said that it was weird to see the place so clean she had started to suspect. Now, her children might master the art of observation and deduction, but they always overlooked the sentimental part of things. Sherlock had seen the obvious attempt of Mycroft to get information from her and that had kept him in silence almost all day that making her think that maybe for once Mycroft had nothing really in mind, she had almost given up the chance to interact with him, at least until the pathologist arrived.

His attitude towards her was almost like the one he displayed when he was with John, but some subtle differences made clear that it was something completely different, and that maybe it had been for a while. The girl was wearing clothes out of her usual attire, Martha and Mary had commented over that fact by telling her that she looked very good like that, and his son had obviously noticed the change. Also the way he had told her to sit next to him on the armrest; that had been unconscious, he knew every one was looking at them, and that gave him a good excuse to act as if he weren't interested, with no one really asking anything about it, it was almost funny. As if he wanted them to ask if he was actually ogling her.

Other detail had been the necklace, the tiny violin was something unusual for someone working at a morgue, the love for the music and instruments was something that people with practical knowledge tended to use, the woman had never played a violin in her life, her hands showed her hard work in a lab, but they were not like her son's, where the skill to play the violin could be felt; she said she had bought it, but it was not her style, and had it been bought by her it could have been something more simple and colorful. No, that necklace was something her son had bought and gifted to her.

They way they looked at each other, or shared smiles in between conversation while they were eating were even more telling. Poor Mycroft, he should have sent somebody else over Anthea to investigate, the woman was literally suffering of a cruel addiction, distracting her and making her do something different made her focus change and the directions given by Mycroft to be ignored, it would probably give him a headache.

Knowing that the girl was probably going to tell him that Sherlock had taken Molly to her flat, she hurried, her son was anything but predictable, and he might have already cameras to spy on them, well, not tonight. Once she made sure that dinner was ready she called Mycroft to join her.

-What are you doing? I'm you're guest; you are supposed to dine with me. – Mycroft had complained aloud, saying that it was not a good moment, his laptop needed to be recharged and he had still something to do with it.

She had called him again, more commanding this time, making him come reluctantly to the table, and seeing the frustrated look on his face, if he had actually got to see something through his hidden cameras, it wasn't something he could use against his brother, and she hoped that Mycroft wouldn't mind her moving the charger of place, he shouldn't have let it lying over the sofa in his office, oh, did she know how many things he had lost that way, maybe the charge wouldn't last enough to let him record anything incriminatory. Molly Hooper deserved some privacy, and if said privacy was being shared with Sherlock, she had greater chances of getting grandchildren, who was she to stop them.

Mary Watson had only confirmed her suspicions and had agreed to call her with updates, and Mycroft could complain all he wanted, she was not going to let him interfere, she was his mother after all.


	12. Things to keep in mind

**Ok, I could keep blaming my faulty monitor for the delay (FYI: it's still faulty), but this time I also blame the long time it takes to paint some rooms. My mother has this idea of painting to receive the new year, I personally think that painting could be done any other time in the year, but she insists on waiting and then I end up in charge of the Christmas decorations as well, so, this time when (finally) the other four members of the family agreed on a color (something that shouldn't be that difficult, really) we started painting, and of course my writing time was almost inexistent.**

**But anyway, here we are, in the twelfth chapter, thanks for staying with me all this long, I really appreciate it. It's my first fanfic since I came back to this page and I'm really enjoying it, still wondering if I should change the rating. Again, read, enjoy and if possible review.**

* * *

**12. – Things to keep in mind.**

Mycroft was at his office, he was feeling a bit annoyed to tell the truth, his mother had requested him to spend the whole dinner with him and had talked non stop about what had happened during the day she had had at Sherlock's, telling him about Mrs. Hudson, Mary Watson and her offspring, telling him about Molly Hopper and the way she had talked about her job and wondering if she could spend Christmas with them this year. She had also chastised him about Anthea, telling him what he knew already, that the woman needed a distraction, that she was able to do many other things than just stare to her phone. He of course had tried to tell her what the real function behind her "addiction" was, and also include some of the other things she worked for him, but that was telling his mother more than what she needed to know.

And now he was in front of his desk, crossing his fingers wishing the recording program of his computer had worked even with the very low battery it had. His bad mood had only improved when he had to spend another half an hour after dinner looking for the charger. The laptop finally ended the reboot and showed him the login square; he typed his password and accessed his files.

He opened immediately the recording program, going through the files of Molly Hooper's flat, he found a file with the date and almost sighed in relief. He double clicked it and waited for it to load. Through a camera placed under a table in the entrance he saw them enter the flat, his brother pulled her to him, but the angle didn't allowed him to see what was happening, as he could only see them to elbows height. She helped him to take his coat off, and then called him with a gesture to the living room, Sherlock only stopped to take off his shoes.

The camera changed to the one in the living room (the ones he had placed there to keep an eye on his brother were movement sensible making the recording easy to follow), the camera was hidden in the center of the clock on the wall, where the needles joined. Sherlock hadn't even make it to the couch, when she looked at other side of the room, he helped her on her feet and surprising him again, his brother leaned down… the video stopped there, Mycroft didn't knew how long the kiss had lasted, or if they had done anything else, the kitchen, the hallway, and the door to the bedroom where other points where he had placed cameras, not inside the bedroom or the bath room, so he wouldn't see something more there. The kiss alone explained lots of things, but it was something completely different of what Sherlock used to do, he searched again, checking the cameras to see which had been activated even when they hadn't recorded, the hallway and the bedroom door cameras had been activated, and for a moment he wondered if he really wanted to know.

A few minutes later however the cameras activated again in a different order the hallway, bathroom, hallway again, living room and entrance door… It could have been worse, he supposed. But why was Sherlock doing this? They had talked about sentiment many times before; surely he had other interest going behind the façade of being with the pathologist, maybe better access to the morgue? Information perhaps? Or had he finally gone mad enough to indulge in a relationship? It was not going to end well, if it was the case, he wouldn't be able to keep it for more than a two or three weeks.

* * *

Sherlock was lying on his chair, extended at his full height, and watching the ceiling, he had arrived a while ago, having running out of Molly's apartment after embarrassing himself, he didn't know how to react, so he had sent her a message in the cab apologizing for what had happened, Molly had sent him another message, telling him that there was no problem at all and asking him if he was ok. He had sent a short reply, telling her that everything was fine and saying sorry again.

It's not that he hadn't expected it to happen; just that he hadn't expected _the way_ it had happened. It was going to be really difficult to go to her apartment and work on the files the next day. Especially with John there, he knew it would be completely obvious what had transpired between Molly and him. Well at least he hadn't received a call from Mycroft in the whole day, so at least to that point everything was fine.

He spent the night awake, and the following morning he was already in front of his laptop, he had missed some of John's entries in his blog, he was actually really amused by them, John had of course noticed some of the things going on between him and Molly, but his friend was still reluctant to confirm the idea, other than feeling the need to help Molly. By now Sophie was at least a month and a half older, and if his memory was good (of course it was) the whole thing had started a few weeks before she was born.

Two months had been Molly's bet, she had said that by then at least someone would have asked them about the relationship, those two months were some weeks ahead since the bet had been made later, he had gone with at least two months and a half, almost three months since she had gave him that strawberry flavored kiss and started this madness.

How had he fallen in love with her again? _In love?_ Was he really feeling that, was it that the name? Maybe, during that time he had found that it was not only that he enjoyed kissing her, he enjoyed spending time with her, also that she cared about him, worrying to know if he had eaten or sleep properly, if he was healthy, something he had started to do for her as well, making sure she wasn't sad or uncomfortable, not even the lust filled moments they had started to share were as numerous as the moments they had spent in each other company doing other things, and for him it had started from the moment he knew that fake Moriarty would probably use her against him, unconsciously he had reached for her first, and in that same way, unable to recognize the feelings behind his actions he had kept her away, until she snapped, an accidental kiss leading to a relationship…

The ringtone of hi phone made him look off the screen. Oh, right, he had to go and start working on those medical records, and John's photo on the screen told him that he might be already on his way to Molly's place, as he had told him to do when he was leaving.

-John! – He greeted him.

-*Sherlock, just to tell you that I'm on my way to Molly's, want me to pick you up? I took the car. *

-No need John, if you just left it will be a good hour before you arrive here, no, I'll wait for you there, it's only a few minutes away from here in a cab.

-*I thought you would want to take a bath and change clothes, since you spend all night making you usual sarcastic comments on my blog.* - Sherlock looked down at his attire, John was right. - *Told you, so, should I go for you?*

-You should, actually. I'll see you in a bit. – He hung up the phone and hurried to his bedroom, typing a quick message to Molly.

**Be at your place in about an hour w/John. Files already there? SH.**

She replied when he was taking his clothes in the bathroom.

_Yes, all here. Actually making some snacks. Ready to help you both. MH._

This time he didn't reply, making her way under the shower and taking his time to think about the job they were about to do and also try to delete the embarrassing part of the night he had had with Molly.

* * *

An hour later John, Molly and Sherlock were all sitting at her dinning table, at least fifteen complete medical records (that meant a good notebook wide file for each record) were placed in front of them. Sherlock was looking at the names of each file, separating them in men and women, from oldest to new. The three of them had a notepad next to them, so they could be ready to take notes. Sighing, Sherlock finally looked at them.

-Last time I talked to Mycroft he hinted to a certain event that was accidentally deleted from my mind. – Molly and John looked at him incredulous. – I know I have told you that I can delete things from my mind at will, well, this wasn't like that. Mycroft said it had been caused by a trauma or something, so my first option was that maybe it had to be with some of my previous cases or something, maybe I knew someone, a client or a criminal involved that was doing this, of course not many of my clients posses the ability to do this kind of things, and I've always hoped they were happy with the ending result (except for the criminals, but there's also those who were innocent and ended with a bad reputation) when I solved the problem, but I can't be completely sure. That's why I wanted to go to those offices, to check my records and see if any of my cases had had anything to do with it, but as you know I couldn't have access to that place, so I'm working with the next thing in the list. The second option was that it was a relative, someone that have been part of the family and had shared time with me and Mycroft, that's why I didn't had a list for different last names, my mother had no siblings so there's no one to search on that line since my grandparents died a while ago, on the Holmes line however, it's another story.

-Then why are we looking at these medical records? - asked John, obviously wondering why Sherlock liked to take the complicated road.

-Because, my mother, my father and Mycroft know about the incident, and they are not telling me, I don't really have the time to go and visit other people and if it was an event so important to the point of make me forget something, it probably sent me to the hospital for a while.

-Probably. – Said John. – But why so many?

-I'm just curious; many men in the Holmes branch tend to give lots of visits to the hospital during their life. There may be someone with worst 'luck' than me.

John was about to shout something when Sherlock handed him a file, the name on the folder said "William Sherlock Scott Holmes", and he took it putting a grumpy face, Molly moved her chair a little and glanced at the file in John's hands. The doctor smiled at the woman and they both started looking at Sherlock's file, while he took another file and started looking at it.

-William Sherlock Scott Holmes, male, age 36, birth day… - Molly was reading the first lines in the file, John knew a bit of that, having spent some time at the hospital while he was recovering from the shot, and being a doctor he had been able to take a look to the reports of those days, so he looked down at the medical history.

The first thing listed was the internal bleeding he had suffered for escaping the hospital, the resuscitation that had to be done in the ambulance, the surgery they had to do to close the stitches again, there were some angry notes from the doctor in charge about how irresponsible it was off him to escape. Then there was all the data about the shot, again the effort made by the paramedics in the ambulance, the exact time he had been dead over the table before he miraculously survived, and a detailed text explaining what had been the damage made by the bullet.

Going down there were more reports about their cases together, and he had to smile at remembering some of them, there was a really weird comment from a nurse about reopening the file ("Clinical Death officially reported two years ago, not showing signs of being a zombie, but may have ate a bad brain, comes into checking presenting food poisoning of some kind, patient refers that he thought that the microwave dinner he had left on the shelve [hopefully not for two years] was still in good condition, doctor prescribed..."; Molly actually laughed at this), and thinking that there were some cases where he shared wounds with him in his own medical records. In the next page the familiar cases were few, moving to Sherlock's past, they found the rehab reports, the withdraw symptoms, some overdose events, and a group of injuries that seemed out of place, like a burn on the hand, a broken group of toes, and things like that all of them with the 'patient reference of the incident' with the word "bored" as part of the excuse.

There were also other interesting things there, like a broken leg, a broken arm… (well there was a compilation of broken bones there, and John and Molly looked at each other wondering if the man had somehow experimented on himself), a concussion, some caries, and the report of a stab on a leg, some more usual diseases and check ups. There was also a psychiatric report, the one done during the rehab, and some others about interesting issues, about his sociopath tendencies, and several more done during his childhood, in the back were listed the results of all the lab tests they had performed for him.

After looking at it only for details they lifted their gaze again to the man, he was taking notes off of the file he was working on, and he looked at them without lifting his face, and looked pointedly at Molly.

-Why are you not working on a file yet? There, you can go through the female relatives, their files are easier to work, so when you finish you can help us with the other data. – Molly nodded; John shook his head and went back to the beginning of Sherlock's file, completely missing his friend winking at the pathologist.

Many question were asked during the next few hours, once they started with different relatives John had to make sure that some of the cases were real, Sherlock's father had been a journalist, he had been at some of the most interesting gatherings in the country, some of them festive, some of them to complain, apparently he and his mother had met when he had made a report of the school where she was working at as a math teacher (in the times before her PhD) , the note had been about the terrible state and low resources the school had, but out of the newspaper things had worked for the two of them.

There were many different people in the Holmes family tree, from doctors, detectives, nurses, journalists, teachers, publicists, actors, and even messengers, many of them with a common medical record, but there were also the interesting ones, that far from their common profession had listed a number of injuries that made them worry on the tendency of the family to get in trouble or just stand in the wrong place at the wrong moment. Molly had found in the eldest files some postmortem reports with unexplained facts on the cause of death.

The winner of the day was another Sherlock Holmes, part of one of the most ancient and weird files in the lot, it was weird to find in there in the first place, seeing as it was ancient, that Sherlock had been another detective, and apparently was the complete opposite of the one sitting with them, something that was just very difficult to picture when Sherlock's face appeared in their mind every time they tried.

It was Molly's surprised gasp that made the look at her alarmed.

-Sherlock, it says here that your mother had three sons! – John lifted his eyebrows surprised, but Sherlock just looked back down to the file he had.

-Yes, and?

-Sherlock, do you have another brother? Maybe a half brother or something? How come I've never heard about him?

-Yes, no, and you never asked. – Said Sherlock looking at his friend. John crossed his arms in front of him and looked at Sherlock, clearly expecting him to talk; he sighed.

-Fine. – He said closing the file and placing in on the table. – Yes, Mycroft and I are not the only children in the family, there's also Izzymus, but as you've noticed we don't talk about him.

-Why? Is he dead? – Asked Molly a bit worried.

-No, he was banished from the country years ago, I don't know where he lives or what he does to survive, haven't see him in ages…

-But… What happened? – Asked Molly covering her mouth, while John placed his arms on the table and looked at them again.

Sherlock was about to say something, he opened his mouth to talk, but then seemed to froze, he frowned, closed his mouth and pressed his lips together, he placed a hand to his forehead and then looked back up at them.

-… I don't know. – He said, and then a wide smile spread across his face. – It has to be this. I… I think it has to do something with him, why else wouldn't I remember the reason why he was banished? Or at least is connected … now that I think about it I'm not sure if he's still alive, but… - he searched through the files until he found a specific one. – There must be something here, John, look for Mycroft's, there most be something in them. Molly, check my parent's files, something happened and I need to at least have and idea of what it was.

They ordered take out when Molly said she was hungry and John had finally started pacing the place, it was a good distraction, that also allowed them to shake the numbness off their legs, John even looked surprised when Sherlock had started eating (the truth was that Molly had sent him a threatening glance), then they moved to the living room, and worked shifting from the couch to the floor while checking data (Molly and John tended to look at the lab tests to see if there was some quemical effect leading to certain events).

They kept working this time focusing only in Sherlock's direct family, until they found an event, it was rather similar to what had happened to them a few weeks ago, and Sherlock remembered talking with Mycroft about it, he remembered also that part of his life with his younger when that had happened, but at the moment the mere thought of him coming back was something he hadn't considered.

The event consisted on a report with almost the same date where Mycroft and him had been sent to the hospital, Mycroft with a weird infection that had him in bed for a few days and Sherlock in some kind of accident that had made him stay longer due to some broken bones, the only difference with the reality now was that he had been the one getting sick, while Mycroft had suffered from that "attack" in his office.

There was a short time between that report and the next one, that last report however had a short and very common explanation, it looked weird with how long was the previous one, and maybe that was why the probabilities of being the event they were looking for were higher. While it was reported a few weeks after he had completely healed from his "accident", Sherlock's concussion report was listed as not serious and he had stayed to be observed the whole night.

-A good bump to the head would have caused you to forget something, or as you said to disguise the shock and at the same time place what had happened in a (metaphorical) different place in your mind palace, where you would never go to look for it.

-Well maybe, but I have a good organization up there – he said pointing to his head – and it would took a while for me to move in those memories, they're old and useless at times, maybe with a few… - In that moment Molly's head dropped over his shoulder, they were both sitting on the floor next to the coffee table, and John was looking at him from his place over the armrest of a couch.

-She must be exhausted. – Said John looking at her, while Sherlock placed his arm around her to prevent her from falling over the table as she was leaning forward. – Her shifts at the morgue are always long; if it's her day off she must really need to rest for a while.

-She's a heavy sleeper – said Sherlock moving her in his arms. – Can you arrange a cushion over the couch?

John nodded and placed one of the cushions flat over the couch to use as a pillow, Sherlock maneuvered her body, changing his stance as well to lift her up, he and John shared a look of surprise at how deeply she had fallen asleep, they had been talking with the normal volume of their voices, and Sherlock while having tried to be gentle when he moved her had failed to be completely good at it. He placed her gently over the couch, moving her hair off of her face and looking for his coat to put it over her.

-Well, I think that means we can work for a few more minutes, then we can leave her a note and leave, it's already getting late – said John looking at Sherlock who was still staring at Molly's sleeping face.

-Yep. – Said Sherlock turning around and going back to his seat on the floor.

John cleared his throat, taking his notepad again. Molly's cat, Toby, that at some moment had left the apartment, appeared again, jumped over the couch and curled up next to Molly, with his head up and looking at them. John smiled and then looked at Sherlock.

-I know this is out of the topic, but we need to talk Sherlock. – He said, looking at the man sitting in front of him.

-About what? – Said Sherlock, reluctantly placing his notes over the table again.

-You and Molly. – John smiled when he saw how Sherlock's eyes focused somewhere else, not making direct eye contact with him. – I know she had been spending more time with you, and I've noticed how close you two have become, it's weird actually, and I know you have you own ideas about feelings and emotional stuff, but if you are starting to feel something for her, - this time Sherlock shifted uncomfortably in his place - I think you should take a chance. Molly is a great woman, she's always cared about you, and maybe you will say that it's not possible, that it will be difficult because you are a very weird person with a strange personality, but I think Molly has learned how to handle herself around you, how to act, how to understand you, she might be the only woman able to do it. And before you say it, yes, even better that Adler and you know very well why. Because with Molly there will be more than just that sexual tension between you, and you can deny it all you want but I know you're quite fond of her by the way you are acting lately around her.

-Are you saying… - this time it was Sherlock the one who cleared his throat. – Are you saying that… if Molly and I were to… - he gestured from Molly to him in a distracted way, it was actually amusing to see him stutter over this – you would approve? Is this you giving me your 'blessing'? – He said making the quotation marks with his fingers.

-Yes… Yes I am giving you my blessing. Not that either of you need it. But it's also a way to tell you that even though you have my support, and advice (if you ask), you also need to take care of her, because I'm sure that I wouldn't be the only one wanting to murder you if you ever hurt her (and you do that very often), remember who my wife is. – They both chuckled at this comment. - It's all up to you, of course, we still have to solve this case though, but I'm sure that by then you will already have considered this matter.

Sherlock nodded, looking once more to Molly's sleeping form. A part of him wanted to tell John every thing about his secret relationship with Molly, now that he once again saw the strong confidence his friend had in him, the trust and support that had always been part of his personality, but at the same time he was afraid to disappoint him, wasn't completely sure if he wanted John to make more questions (unnerving questions) about their affairs, or to make him doubt his own intentions with this amazing woman.

A while later John said he was going back home, he asked Sherlock if he wanted a ride to Baker Street, but he declined, saying that he wanted to take some files with him, and will call a cab to go back. John smiled and then walked towards his car.

Sherlock stayed a while longer, watching Molly, petting Toby when the cat jumped over his lap, hearing the ticking of the clock on the wall. As a distraction he reviewed the security devices around Molly's flat, finding them all in good state and working, he noticed some wires that he didn't remember, but Molly's voice asking for him and John made him look back at her.

-Hello sleeping beauty. – He said, feeling ridiculous the moment the words escaped his lips.

-…Sherlock! – She said stretching her arms and rubbing one of her eyes. He sat down next to her, moving again the rebel strand of hair on her face. She smiled and leaned towards him, burying her face in his chest. He placed his arms on her back, and pulled the hair band of her now messy ponytail to let her hair loose. – John? – She asked moving to cuddle next to him.

-Gone. We actually managed to declare this search finished, I'm still taking some files with me, and I'll give them back to you later. – He said moving his hand up and down her back.

-Mmm… ok. – She said putting her arms around him. He smiled and looked down at her, leaning down and kissing her, he placed a hand over her knee and started rubbing it.

-You know, yesterday I would have really liked to explore something that happened, but we might have got carried away here, now it's the perfect opportunity. – He said casually, making Molly look at him with a lifted eyebrow.

-What could that be? – She asked. Sherlock chuckled moving the hand he had over her knee to hold her legs and moving her so that she was now sitting on his lap.

-Not really the best of the things to happen when one's mother is in the room. – He said holding her close. – Makes it difficult to enjoy it. – He said moving his hand from her knee to her thigh and from there to her breast.

-I know what you're talking about. – She breathed out when he squeezed her softly. She kissed him, allowing his hand to roam over her body. Some touches made her move over him, and when her own hands started their own quest over his torso it promoted a specific reaction of him. Amused by it, she wiggled a little, making him moan, he in turn made something he hadn't done before, placing his hand between her legs.

They stopped a few seconds, looking at each other, just the day before they had shared a bit more than this, but it was still very intimate. However their heavy breathing and racing heart made them continue, and if at some point their hands made their way underneath the fabric that didn't stopped them.

* * *

_The personal blog of Doctor John H. Watson_

_Today I think we finally found a possible name for our mysterious imitator, or at least the first important name among those I have spotted as part of this case. Sherlock managed to get some files, confidential files with information that led us to our answer. There are still enough possibilities that this person is not connected, but to make sure he needs to work inside his infamous "Mind Palace"._

_Apparently if this person is really someone he knew in the past the answer is hidden in his memories, that will probably lead to at least three days of watching him sitting statue like on his chair while he search for those memories. On the other hand I finally managed to watch him interact with that friend I mentioned before, and I'm quite sure that he's also been noticing "the change" between them. How much he understands what's really going on I don't know, and I wouldn't risk saying (like my wife and some friends) that there is something already there, but I'm willing to think that in the future, it could be._

_Many things came from those files; for example, try to picture a man completely opposite to the Sherlock I have described in this blog, the complete OPPOSITE. Quite difficult, isn't it? Well turns out that in the past that man existed, and with the same name. _

_For the first time since this case started I think we might be getting closer to solve it._

-A third Holmes brother… I can't believe it. – Said Mary walking around the room putting clothes and products in their place. Sophie was already asleep on the bed, and John had finally used some time to work. Mary had been helping him as promised with it, but he still had to sign them and take them back to his office in the hospital.

-Yes, never imagined that. Izzymus Holmes… Their parents did have something for the weird names. George Mycroft Alan Holmes, William Sherlock Scott Holmes, and James Izzymus Eden Holmes… Maybe we could still give Sophie a second name. Don't you think? – He said looking at Mary, who had stopped her pacing when John had said the three brothers name. – Mary?

-Yes… Another name… What do you suggest? – The sudden nervousness of his wife didn't go unnoticed, but John said nothing about it, quickly suggesting internet pages to find some exotic or unusual names.

* * *

**Note: Neither the age or the names I used in this chapter are official (anyway who know exactly how old is Sherlock?). Also the other Sherlock is of course not based on the original. And about the names, what other names would you give Mycroft? How would you call the third brother? For all I know their parents had a thing for weird names... I'd love to hear what you name them! (Also reminding you that as this story is fanmade, nothing is official).**


	13. Discoveries

**You can blame 'Dreams' and a Little tiny strange pic I did for the delay in this chapter, also the lack of ideas while my head was still swirling around the idea of writting that other story (*blushes and hides behind a black curtain*). But anyway, it's been a while since I last dedicated a chapter for the case itself, so there's no much Sherlolly in this one, but there are some 'points' that will maybe lead you to where this story gets its solution. There is more fluff in later chapters I promise, I'm still planing some scenes that I hadn't envisioned when I started the fic.**

* * *

**13. - Discoveries**

She was actually taking advantage of the heavy downloading file in the computer in front of her to look at him. If Mycroft cared about something that was his family, even with a brother leaving in another country he managed to keep him safe and comfortable, he called his parents often and was the permanent guardian of Sherlock. Mycroft Holmes was a good man, a sensitive and caring man; Anthea couldn't really understand why he was always saying that showing those feelings was wrong.

The downloading window in the screen closed and she quickly opened the file, going through the information she already known hadn't changed since the last time she had saw it and checking any new additions. Mycroft wasn't one to enter his 'mind palace', and when he did it never took him long to come back from it. Anthea glance once again towards her boss, something had happened, it had something to do with Sherlock, the case and something from their past, but what? What could he had seen of found out that had disturbed him so much?

She made quick job to prepare a document with the information that he had asked her to find, typing fast on the keyboard and going through her mental agenda, wondering if the cupcakes he had ordered had already arrived, trying not to think on how much she would like to support him or help him in a more personal way with his troubles, damn the man for not being able to reciprocate her feelings.

-Stop doing that… - came Mycroft's voice from his chair.

-Excuse me sir? – She said looking at him from over the computer screen.

-Stop displaying your feelings that way, I can feel your disappointment from here, and no, you wouldn't be helpful but I appreciate your hard work in other matters.

She looked back down at her computer, going back to her fast typing before giving it a last check and sending it to the printer. She closed the recently made file and saved it, she then turned off the machine and stood up, taking the pages of the printer, and placing them in one of the empty folders next to it, she then handed them to Mycroft.

-If you don't mind sir, I'm going to take my lunch break now. – She then pulled a lollipop from her jacket and opened it, looking then for her mobile in the other pocket, she walked out of the office, without looking back.

* * *

Sherlock needed a quiet place, somewhere to think, somewhere cold to be able to go into his mind and away from the comfortable feeling of the reality around him, he needed space. A long night had gone with him trying to remember just what had happened that had make Izzy deserve banishment from the country, a night wondering why Mycroft wanted it to stay secret, a night of deep meditation and no answers.

He was frustrated.

He had let Molly fall asleep a while back in her apartment, saying that he was going to stay and think, but at some point in the night when his thoughts kept being uncooperative he had left. He hadn't intended to go too far, but now he suddenly found himself in a place that was most likely the only place quiet and cold that always allowed him to think. The morgue.

He paced the little room, reviewing memories from his youth, trying to find the lost memories of the days leading to the last moment he saw his younger brother. He remembered going to the airport, shaking his hand one last time and then saw him go. Before that however was a memory of him in a hospital room, waking up to his mother concerned face and his father furiously pacing in front of the bed.

It had been in times of his last year at college, just after the rehab, when he had decided that he was going to finish those studies because it was something he wanted, not something Mycroft could tell him was never going to happen if he ever went back to his addiction, he had studied a lot just to prove him wrong.

He remembered sleepless nights with his head buried in books and making note after note with complicated diagrams of chemical reactions, surprisingly Mycroft hadn't been bothering him, and he had always thought that his parents had something to do with it, but…

It hadn't been them. Back to those days Mycroft was still working his way up in the government, he had worked at different offices before reaching his current position. Anyway, there was something going on with his elder brother in that moment, one day he had been making lots of noise, complaining about a mistake he had made at work, Sherlock remembered throwing him one of the porcelain figurines on a shelve to make him shut up.

Then something changed, in his pursue to regain his good reputation Mycroft had started working with the police, there had been a particular woman of some importance that was helping him, along with some other people that were in a lower range, that woman however was strict and had made Mycroft work and talk a lot, something that hadn't seem important in that moment.

Izzy was still working his way through high school, he was in his last year and had been going through a 'self-consious' phase, he had the tendency to stay out until late with his friends, from the three of them he was the one with the easiest way around other people, he never did drugs, maybe because Sherlock had made them go through a hard moment with that, but he had his own quirks.

Izzy had the quality to find out embarrassing things about people with his deductions (something that the three brothers had in common), and sometimes tended to point them out whenever things were uncomfortable for him, he also had a thing for fire, he loved making small fires here and there, and most of the things he did were just for fun and rarely dangerous. Sherlock wondered about his pyromaniac tendencies while lying over an examination table, bored of pacing. From the corner of his eye he noticed the pathologist in charge walking towards the door, he sat up and jumped off the table, making the man look up and turn around scared, he chuckled at his reaction; he hadn't even bothered to see if he was an actual dead patient.

There were some fussy memories about those days still running in his mind, he tried to clear them out while walking to the lab, he remembered having to go and look for his siblings once, then there were images of an ambulance, then some flashes like from a photo camera, and then something on the radio… Sherlock opened his eyes at that, maybe whatever had happened had been in the news, and that meant he could search the internet for news about those specific days… Now, what was the password to the computer in Molly's office?

* * *

John was playing with her baby daughter, moving her hands and making funny sounds while the baby looked at him with her beautiful eyes. He had managed to make her smile a bit once and had tried to make her do it again; he knew it was more a reflex than a meaningful smile at her age, but it had been the most incredible thing in the world. Mary was taking a bath, and surprisingly he hadn't received a call yet from Sherlock, he wondered what his friend had done after he left.

He had said something about some files, but he had the feeling that his friend was not going to forget the conversation they had had when Molly fell asleep, and secretly hoped that his friend could leave the big question (of making her his girlfriend) for when the case was over, not only because it was going to be complicated (and weird) to start a relationship in the middle of a case, he was sure that things would be awkward around those two if Sherlock suddenly started displaying affection towards the pathologist, but he wasn't sure he could handle it while looking at another corpse or at a crime scene, and there was the fact that he had forgotten about his bet with Mary, that shouldn't be an issue but it was difficult for him to loose at his wife by being him the one helping her to win.

He lifted Sophie in his arms and walked towards the living room downstairs, relishing the feeling of the warm body of his daughter against his chest. Another thing he had to think about was the fact that Mary knew Sherlock's younger brother, she hadn't said a thing about, but he had noticed, and now John wondered if he should ask his wife straight forward or tell Sherlock first and wait to know something else after that.

The fact that his best friend and wife had hidden another thing from him made him angry, he could understand Mary, after all if that man was part of her past he couldn't make her tell him anything about it, he had made a promise, and about Sherlock, he was sure he had asked him once about his family, but then again he hadn't been introduced formally to his parents until that day when he found them in the apartment and Sherlock had make them go away. He should probably be angrier at the fact that those things had become not really relevant to him when it came to Sherlock; the man had knew about his sister from the beginning, why couldn't he be allowed to know something from Sherlock's family? It could have been nice to hear him casually mention his younger brother in one or two of the anecdotes he had told him about Mycroft.

Sophie started to wiggle in his arms and he made his way towards the kitchen, looking for a warm bottle for the girl. While feeding her John reviewed in his memory the file of Izzymus Holmes, he seemed like the normal one in that family, at least up until the banishment problem, which was still an unanswered question, not weird injuries or strange excuses to be at the hospital, he had some interesting notes there, like one listed by a paramedic about near asphyxiation, other for a second grade skin burn, and a little and long solved case of anorexia during the time Sherlock had been using drugs.

-John? – came Mary's voice from upstairs.

-Kitchen. – He answered trying not to startle Sophie who was starting to close her eyes with sleep.

-Oh, good. – Said Mary, walking down the stairs, she had just done her clothes but was still drying her hair with a towel. – We should go and visit Sherlock later; there are some things I need to talk to him about.

-Yes, I'll call him. – Said John trying to sound casual, but burning with curiosity about what Mary wanted to tell his friend. He heard her sighing, Sophie had finally fallen asleep and had let go of the bottle.

-John, what I need to tell Sherlock is not something I want to talk about; I know you will want to know more about it, but…

-Stop it. – He said looking at her. – If you want me to hear what you are going to tell him its fine, also if you don't want me to. I made a promise and I'm not going to ask you about your past if it makes you uncomfortable. And, if I have doubts I'm going to ask, but I'm not going to make you answer if you don't want to.

Mary nodded, once again with that expression mixture of guilt, love and happiness all at the same time, as if she didn't deserve such responses from him. She wiped her eyes, although no tear had escaped her eyes, she placed the towel over her shoulders and extended her arms to hold Sophie. John gave her the baby and kissed her forehead, hurrying towards the living room and clearing a space on the couch for Mary to sit down.

* * *

Molly woke up after noon; Toby was cuddled at her side but had been mewling for a few minutes, obviously hungry and tired of being ignored. She stood up and went to put some food in his bowl, looking at the note over the kitchen table; it was from Sherlock saying that he had gone to think. Whatever that entailed she wasn't certain, but for all he knew, especially when he was at his mind palace, it could take a long time before seeing him again.

She smiled at the memories of the previous night, she couldn't believe that she was actually doing those things with Sherlock, their relationship was quickly approaching the point of no return, and she was actually a little nervous. She had dreamt about that, wondering how the man would be in the heat of the moment, her past experience was something that she was not proud of, and the memories of what she had done with Tom were not really something she should think about. But if her last encounters with the consulting detective where something to go by, then it was going to happen soon.

She shook her head trying to focus on what she had to do, she walked towards the bathroom and took a relaxing shower, after that she checked her shelves and her refrigerator, noticing that she needed to go and make some shopping, she had almost finished to write down everything she needed to buy when there was a knock on the door.

Cautiously she walked to the door and looked through the window next to the door to see who it was.

-Don't worry Ms. Hooper; I assure you I mean no harm at all. – Molly's eyebrows rose at the sound of Mycroft's voice, but she composed herself and opened the door. The elder Holmes was standing outside her door; he was leaning against a pair of crutches (something really strange to see) and smiling. Molly couldn't help but suspect about his intentions.

-How can I help you Mr. Holmes? – She said and suddenly understood why Sherlock didn't like it when she called him 'Mr. Holmes'.

-Actually, I was wondering if you would like to accompany me to lunch. – He gestured behind him, and she could see the black car parked downstairs. Knowing that she couldn't really decline his offer she smiled.

Twenty minutes later they were sitting at the garden of an expensive restaurant, Mycroft was ordering some food and sweets, she only asked for a fresh salad and lemonade.

-Now Ms. Hooper- said Mycroft once the waiter went for their food – I think you already know why I want to talk with you.

-I have an idea, but I would like to know anyway.

-It's about my brother, most specific about the current relationship you two are in. - Molly raised her eyebrows again, not wanting to get intimidated by Mycroft, he could just be playing with her to get information.

-Relationship? – She asked.

-Yes, you see, my brother placed a big ring of security around you when this case started, he even increased it when the incident with your ex-fiancé happened, and it had come to my attention that he has been spending more time with you than usual, my team is always professional so I can assure you that your privacy isn't compromised, but I must inform you that some of our… - he cleared his throat and looked at the sky – cameras had recorded some interactions between you two and they're not in the friendly range…

Molly felt the blood rushing to her face, she tried to hide it but it was already too late. – You have cameras in my flat? – She asked angrily.

-It's for you own…

-I know what they're for, but I'm quite sure that the location of those cameras shouldn't be to spy on me, if the security around me is that high then your people should be able to protect me when I'm vulnerable, like when I'm asleep or in the shower or when I'm not there to catch any threats, I would understand if you recorded during the night, even if you had a camera directed to my bathroom door, but I'm not really going to say how disgusting I think that you are recording my private life when I have company and are perfectly safe, something that Sherlock's presence there should mean.

Mycroft looked at her, his expression one of surprise at listening to the small woman next to him.

-What do you mean with 'friendly range'? How much have you seen? Since when are you watching? – She asked looking any where else but him.

-I apologize, Ms. Hooper I told my team to put those cameras not long ago – this time Molly was the one surprised at seeing Mycroft going red – I was trying to find out why my brother was spending so much time with you, he's supposed to be working in a case, searching for answers and not getting distracted. – Mycroft knew he had said something bad by the look in Molly's eyes - I assure you that until last night the material I had was little and I actually was hopping to hear that it had just been yesterday night. I will tell my team to take the cameras off, as I don't intend to mess into your personal business.

-You know that's not enough right? And it's not of your business when this started.

-I know, and you can have my word that none of this will reach the public, but I also wanted to warn you…

-About what? Sherlock's tendency to hurt people? You think he can't handle a relationship? – Mycroft once again looked at her, this time with annoyance at her words; he was supposed to be the one trying to keep things at peace. – You know, I don't even have to talk with you about this, if you don't take the cameras off I'll tell Sherlock and Lestrade to take them. How we handle our lives is not something you can dictate, you are complaining of him being distracted but you are not helping, and I'm sure you already know who is behind this all, you've had the power to end this for weeks, if someone is distracted doing something he shouldn't, that's you. Now either you let Sherlock solve the case on his own or you solve it and stop making him loose time.

-Ms. Hooper I don't think that's the way to speak with someone in my position. If I am doing this is because I know Sherlock will learn a good lesson after it, a hard lesson that I had to learn first and that convinced me that sentiment was a waste of time, a distraction for what should be a priority and that is not going to happen with you on the way.

Molly opened her mouth offended, Mycroft had raised his voice and was shaking slightly, she wondered what had happened to the man to make him think like that, if she wasn't that angry she would have asked, but the man was stubborn and she was not going to deal with someone as stuck in his ways as him. She stood up, taking her things with her.

-I'm sorry Mr. Holmes, I don't pretend to be an obstacle in your life, now if you excuse me, I know people that had not trouble with having me in their life, and your brother is one of them, good bye. – She said walking away, smiling apologetically at the waiter that had just taken their food to the table.

* * *

Sherlock was still browsing in the internet for any news about that even in his life, he had searched the radio stations and some news portals but the files were not that older, he supposed he should go to the library to consult old newspapers.

John and Mary suddenly arrived, with Mrs. Hudson opening the door for them because he was so engrossed in his research that he hadn't heard them. Welcoming the distraction he greeted his friends, feeling the start of a headache caused by staring so long at the computer (he had left Molly's office when a pair of security guards had threaten with kick him out for not having authorization), at least their company will probably help him think through some of the facts he still needed to clear from his memories.

Mary and John had just made themselves at home when there was a loud knock on the door. Sherlock opened the door, thinking that Mrs. Hudson was acting weird, only to open the door and had Molly's tiny body crushing against him. She was pulling hard at the back of his shirt, he head buried in his chest and she was breathing heavily, he could feel her shaking as well, as if she were going to cry.

-Molly! – said Mary's voice behind them. – What happened? – she said standing up and approaching the pair at the door, luckily his expression was surprised and worried so he was sure the façade wasn't compromised.

When Molly wouldn't let go or look at Mary, Sherlock looked at the blonde and she nodded. He placed his arms around Molly and started walking backwards until they were close to his chair, he then lowered himself down to sit and she quickly moved her arms to his neck, allowing him to accommodate them both over the chair.

-Molly… - he said in a low voice, he wondered if she was having a panic attack or something, briefly wondering if Tom had done something else to her again. – Molly, what's going on? – She shook his head, her face still hidden in his shoulder.

-I'll make tea. – Said Mary going to the kitchen.

Sherlock tilted his head, trying to make out something that she was whispering, his eyes opening wide; he tightened his hold of her and finally was able to make her look at him.

-Are you ok Molly? – asked John from the couch, looking warily at the pathologist still in Sherlock's arms. She nodded.

-Yes… thank you John. – She was still shaking, her eyes red just as her cheeks, and John wondered why she had had that reaction. – I… I was just talking with… Mycroft – Sherlock frowned, moving so that he could stand up and leaving Molly to sit there. – He… he said some things and I was… so angry. – She said, and some tears started to run down her cheeks.

-What did he said? – asked Mary from the kitchen.

-Something about me causing trouble, … - she fidgeted and Sherlock knew she was lying – he said I… shouldn't be helping Sherlock… with the files and all… and he also said something about cameras hidden in my apartment and that he was going to be watching me.

John and Sherlock shared a look, the first one wondering if Mycroft was going to interfere with their investigation and the second one contemplating all the things that could go wrong with his brother pushing his nose in matters that didn't concerned him.

Mary came back with a cup of tea for Molly and then went to sit down next to her husband.

-Ok, so you just need to calm down dear. I actually have something to tell you all that will probably help you solve the case. – said Mary checking on her sleeping daughter.

-I'm sorry, it's just… I'm not used to get angry, at least not this much, but Mycroft… he managed to overwhelm me…

-He has a gift for it. – said Sherlock sitting in the chair next to his computer.

-Don't let him affect you Molly. He tried to make me spy on Sherlock when I met him.

-A shame he didn't accept, we could have shared the money. – Molly finally smiled.

-Are you still thinking about that? – said John exasperated.

-All I'm saying is that Mycroft would had give you a good amount of money, and in that moment I wasn't famous enough, it would have helped.

-Hey, you're missing the point. I said I had something important to tell you. – Said Mary snapping her fingers.

-Oh, yes, sorry Mary, do proceed.

-Some years ago I met your brother, Izzymus. – Said Mary looking at Sherlock. – I was searching some people and… I read his name on the file I'd been given, he wasn't the target… - she huffed at that and Molly widened her eyes at the confession. – But he was the man I had to convince to let me near that group. So I tried to befriend him, we actually talked for a while and managed the task without much trouble. I even thought he was… doing his own… job, just like me, I took him as a colleague at the moment, he was smart and had an interesting ability to see details, now that I think about it, he was as good at deductions as you are…

-And? – asked Sherlock crossing his arms.

-Well in some moment he mentioned that he was actually going to move out of that place, feigning annoyance at the current situation, he actually scared me when he said he was fearing that someone was going to finish them… - John cleared his throat at that - , and he mentioned France and a 'new friend' he had met there moths before, obviously he was expecting to… 'cultivate' his bond with that person. I think it was probably your enemy… Moriarty, there's no way to prove it, I could be wrong in that. I know that's not really the kind of information that you were expecting, but… I have some data, I told him that we could be in contact later and we shared 'numbers', I could give it to you, but that will put us in danger.

-What are you asking me to do?

-I need to warranty my family's safety. My best choice is to keep the information, or to plan a way for me to get it and hope that he doesn't know about my new identity here, so you can make up a plan to make him believe you find him on your own while I procure the information, I'm sure that not even Mycroft know about this. And once you got what you need I'll step aside and will never say a thing about it, but your plan should work perfectly, I will not take anything beyond the higher range of possibilities for a good outcome. You know I don't do this anymore.

Sherlock nodded, John and Molly looking at them with surprise and a bit of fear, a big part of the conversation being a puzzle to Molly.

* * *

Later, when John and Mary had gone back to their house Sherlock sat down in his chair again, watching Molly who was sitting in John's old chair.

-Tell me what happened. – He said.

-I was going to do some shopping earlier, when Mycroft arrived. He invited me for lunch and then he told me… that there were cameras, I suppose they are somewhere in the flat, and that he had seen… us, sharing more than friendly interaction. – Molly said that blushing, playing with the hem of her blouse.

Sherlock sighed. – I knew he would do something like this. Well, for a moment I thought he was going to leave the security as I had planned it, but he's always like this, he should find a hobby if he's that bored with his day to day job.

-You knew he was going to do something like this?

-He didn't do it to bother you; he seems to think I still require a babysitter. Of course in the end it just made this relationship difficult.

-Maybe we should cancel the bet.

-It's not about the bet at all, though it will be better if we cancel it.

-So, should we tell our friends about us?

-Not necessary, let them wonder for a while, anyway, with Mycroft knowing it's not going to last for long.

-Mary also knows.

-Yep. John actually gave us his blessing yesterday, and I'm sure Lestrade suspects.

-John?

-He just encouraged me to ask you out.

-Well… but the blessing part?

-He's just worried that I ruin it; he did threaten me with murder if I did. I promise I won't, but I'll need your help.

There was a moment of silence between them… and then Sherlock started laughing and Molly too.

-I wish I had seen Mycroft's face… What do you think he saw? - He said trying to control himself.

-We should… probably find the cameras first… - Said Molly. – Oh god, I can't wait to see Greg's face!


	14. Fire

**Hello, sorry for the late update, but I had to bring the Christmas into the house (yes, I usually do all the decorating my self) and I'm sure some of the virus floating in the air last year had stayed over the baubles, I suffered from a 'zombie' flu (well, I felt like a zombie, not able to speak coherently or do something else but moan and walk to slow) that got me coughing, sneezing, and sort of dying for a few days before I was able to think of updating (probably why the chapter is also a bit short), but I survived and I'm back.**

**Also the old story about the computer (believe me if I had enough money to fix it you wouldn't hear about it, but I'm in México, it's actually difficult to think of spending money in another machine than spending it in surviving priorities, that's how bad the country is economically speaking [no, really, I love the place, is beautiful, but don't ever think of living here]). Warnings for the chapter below: there's a very 'romantic and interesting' scene down there, it's probably very short and it sticks to the rating, but just so you know; and there are some mentions of torture and crazy behavior, not too explicit but if you don't like it just skip the**_** italic**_** part.**

**I'll try to have the next chapters soon, but there will probably not be updates during the holidays, in any case Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. Read and enjoy.**

* * *

**14. – Fire.**

Sherlock was quite frustrated, all his efforts to find something relating the even he had to remember were fruitless, he wasn't sure how much Mycroft could control some things, but he was near to blame him even for the lack of information in the world wide web, it couldn't be possible that an even of this "magnitude" was completely unreachable, untraceable, invisible…

He closed his laptop with a huff and started to walk around the living room again, he needed a cigarette or five… He had even thought of getting some drugs by calling Wiggins, but that would made Molly angry and he didn't want that. Although at this point he thought that maybe that was the kind of mood his mind needed to be to allow him access to that long blocked memory.

He sighed, throwing back his head and staring at the ceiling. What could he do? What could he possibly use to get those memories back? Maybe he could ask John to hit his head in the place where the concussion had been, but that wouldn't warranty it to come back… Maybe he could go back to his youth house and try to recall the event by going to the places he frequented when he was younger, but that would take some time and he wasn't really sure that he wanted to deal with his parents right now.

He growled in frustration and picked up his violin, this wasn't going to help him solve the problem, but it always helped to calm him down, and sometimes, just sometimes he got to compose something and that also took some processes from his head (it was as if the music was constantly being created in his mind and wouldn't stop until he played it out).

Taking a deep breath he slid the bow against the strings, producing the sweet voice of the instrument and making it sing next to him, letting his fingers move in the various notes, feeling the slight vibration of the wood on his clavicle letting it feel his body and mind.

He was so engrossed in it that he didn't noticed when Molly arrived. She had knocked softly on the door, having listened to the violin from downstairs, but when he ignored her obviously lost in the instrument she had entered and was now sitting at the couch looking at him, while he waltzed a bit with the rhythm, his eyes closed and the perfectly tuned notes creating a really comfortable atmosphere. She had just got out of work, but didn't want to go to her flat since they hadn't debugged her flat from Mycroft's cameras.

When he finished playing the current melody he stopped and opened his eyes, sighing again, it took him a few seconds to realize that Molly was in the room with him as well. She smiled at him when his eyes landed on her and his eyebrows raised.

-That's just beautiful. – She said standing up and walking to him, kissing his cheek as greeting.

-Thank you. – He said smiling.

-When I was little I wanted to learn how to play the violin. But my father didn't have enough money to buy one or for the classes. I would have insisted, but one Christmas he gave me a chemistry set, you know, one for kids with insect samples and a microscope and I totally forgot about it. Biology had called me, and from that moment on my path to the medical school was clear.

-Would you like to know how it is?

-I don't think I would have time to learn, and I wouldn't like to torture poor Toby with my first attempts at home, so, no, thank you, but I'll pass.

-I didn't say I wanted to teach you, I said if you would like to know how it feels when you play it.

-I've never thought about it, does it feel special?

Sherlock chuckled, and then gestured her to stand near to him. Molly made to take the violin from his hands, but he didn't let her. Standing at her back he placed the violin under her chin, she lifted her arm to support it, but once again Sherlock moved her hand, telling her to hold his hands instead. It took some arranging but finally Molly was holding Sherlock's hands in a way that he could use to press the strings and move the bow.

-I've never done this before. – Whispered Sherlock in her ear from her right shoulder. – Just relax and feel the vibrations there. – He said pointing at the place where her chin rested over the instrument.

Molly felt a bit awkward, with Sherlock looking both at her and the violin from that angle, and her with her hands on his in the middle of the room. And then he lifted the bow and started to play, the first few notes made her shiver, the instrument was light but the vibrations were stronger than what she had expected, Sherlock's hands were moving next to her, she could tell it was a bit more difficult for him to control the instrument in this position, but she was delighted.

A few minutes later the awkwardness was gone, Sherlock kept playing, the movement of the arm maneuvering the bow was steady, Molly had closed her eyes, relaxing in his arms and for a moment she felt as if she was the one playing, the humming of the vibrations caused by the music filling her, she was quite surprised when it suddenly ended.

She was breathing a bit fast, and she could feel Sherlock's heavy breathing against her back as well, he moved his arms, extracting the violin from under her chin but instead of stepping away he wrapped his arms around her.

-Uhm… Is something wrong? – She asked worried that she had somehow managed to make him feel uncomfortable.

-You were humming. – He said next to her neck, making her shiver once again.

-Sorry. – She said trying to understand if that was a good or a bad thing.

-It's fine. It's actually very good. – Said Sherlock kissing her cheek, taking the violin with his right hand and placing it over his chair. – You really felt it, the music. You enjoyed it. – This time his hand moved upwards until his fingers touched the tiny violin hanging from her neck.

She smiled, placing her own hand over his.

-Maybe we could do it again some time.

-Of course. – He said as if it was obvious. And then he placed a kiss to her neck, this time she couldn't help the tiny moan that escaped her throat, making Sherlock laugh a little.

Much to her surprise he didn't stop there, his hands started moving up and down her arms, coming to rest on her waist and holding her tight to him. She moved a bit, trying to see his face, she was wearing her hair down, so she moved her head tossing her hair to one side, until finally their eyes met. He smiled widely and she smiled too, before he leaned down and kissed her from there, one of her arms moving up to cup his jaw.

She turned around in his arms, and deepened the kiss. He immediately pulled her flush against him and started roaming her body with his clever hands. Before she knew what was happening Sherlock had them both walking towards his bedroom. Once in there it didn't take long for them to go through the same path they were usually taking when they kissed and soon the various layers of clothes they were wearing started to get loose.

I was alright if they kept to just that, thought Sherlock when Molly's hands started undoing his trousers. Of course things never really go according to plan, and when it was his turn to take off her jeans Molly's underwear was pulled down at the same time, something he didn't notice until his hand landed on her warm and bare skin.

He froze then, looking at her with wide eyes, and then down at her jeans that were still being dragged down her legs by his other hand. The white fabric of the 'other' piece of Molly's clothes was there and for the first time in a while he blushed. Molly only looked at him, she had noticed what had happened, but hadn't expected Sherlock to react that way.

She smiled up at him and shifted a little, kicking off the jeans and its companion without shame, taking his hand and returning it to her hip; she also kissed him again, until he pulled out of his initial shock. They resumed kissing, but at some point Molly thought this was starting to become awkward, so she them over until she was over him.

-Sherlock… - She said noting that he had closed his eyes when certain part of their bodies met. – I don't know if I should ask, but, have you ever…? – She wasn't sure how to phrase it, but it turned out she didn't have to when Sherlock shook his head.

-Not really, or maybe not that I remember. – Molly's eyes widened at his confession. – I might… probably… when I was using (he didn't managed to say _drugs_)… but not since then… not even last time, when you… - He looked as if he was looking for something else to say, but she silenced him with a kiss.

-It's ok. Do you want to stop? – She asked resting her head over his chest, feeling him relax a little.

-No. – He said wrapping his arms around her. – It was going to happen soon anyway. And I'm afraid that if we stop right now, next time I'll run away…, but I'm also aware that I might… disappoint you.

She lifted her head to look at him, and then smiled, kissing him once again.

-I don't really care about that, you can always impress me in other ways. – His expression was one of confusion, offense and amusement at the same time, but that didn't stop them. Remembering her boldness when she had first kissed him, and then when she had first started to take off her clothes in front of him, Molly reached down at his hips and pulled at his boxers, feeling him shudder underneath her when their skin touched again.

Maybe sensing that there was still one piece of fabric on them Sherlock's shaky hands moved on her back and worked the clasp of her bra and then tossed it aside. They looked at each other for a moment, not sure who should make the first move now.

Molly did, she leaned down and kissed him, hesitatingly at first, but more convincingly when he started to respond in an eager way and soon enough the awkwardness of the moments was gone. In a way it was weird for her, being the one showing him how to go through this, seeing the lust in his eyes when she was hovering over him, feeling his nervous caresses on her body and then watching the pure bliss in his eyes when it finally happened, going through the motions and the feelings and the sounds, giggling and smiling when something seemed to be happening in the wrong way, encouraging him to let go, to stop thinking so much, to let it happen… at the end she wasn't disappointed at all. Not when he had fallen asleep next to her, fully relaxed and sated, the light layer of sweat making his skin glow, with his messy curls and his reddened lips.

She fall asleep not long after him, wrapping him in her arms and curling next to him, happy and a bit amazed that one of her long forgotten dreams had finally came true.

* * *

_There was fire, smoke and suffocating heat. He remembered coughing before calling out again. Covering his face with part of his t-shirt he moved quickly and ran upstairs, glad that the structure wasn't made of wood and would last a bit more because of the concrete. Upstairs he saw them._

_He was standing with his back to him, the smoke making the image a bit blurry, and he could see her on the other side of the room, pressed against the corner of the room as much as she could, her eyes afraid and the injuries on her body still of an angry red in contrast with her skin. There was no much blood, but the burnt and the blisters were sight enough to know how painful it was, that along with the purplish bruises that had started to tint her body._

_He heard the cars outside, he wasn't sure how long he had been unconscious in the other room, and didn't knew how long it had been since Mycroft had find out. The sound of the ambulances, the firemen and other people moving around downstairs was really loud. He screamed again to make him stop, but when he looked back at him he saw that this was some kind of trance, a state that he couldn't fight and snap out with only words._

_The long thin metal rod that he was holding in his ironically gloved hands was shining a furious and dangerous red at the tip, and the evil and maniac smile that spread across his features was enough to tell him that he was not going to be able to stop him. He lifted it in her direction, looking back at the woman in the corner and the only thing in his mind was to run and try to stop him anyway… there had to be a way… _

_The spray of water that entered the room from the window didn't hit the hot threat of the rod, but it took it out of his hands when he crashed against him and they both fall on the floor, the wooden ceiling joists cracked… The water cooling a bit the atmosphere in the room; they struggled, he didn't knew what part of him was against the poor woman or why it was a bad idea, he really couldn't care less of what she had planned for Mycroft. _

_He screamed and tried to tell him that it was for the best, that she was not being sincere and that something completely different was going to happen if he didn't stopped her, if he didn't make sure that she was not going to come back and try to do it again or any way, even if Mycroft looked for her._

_Sherlock on the other hand tried to tell him that it was enough, that he could stop now, things were certainly going out of control. Downstairs there was noise, the firemen had probably controlled the fire at the entrance of the building enough to be able to enter, Mycroft's voice was heard coming upstairs and some other voices telling him that it was dangerous had started to call after him._

_The ceiling cracked again, this time a joist crumbled down on the far end of the room, making the whole place tremble. Mycroft entered the room, looking first at his brothers still struggling on the floor and then to the woman that had extended her arms to him. It had only been a second, but then Izzy smiled and Sherlock knew that he had planed something more… five… four… He had started counting, and Sherlock had only been aware of shouting a warning to his elder brother before the explosion… Then he felt his head being crashed by something hard and everything went was blank after that._

-Sherlock! ... SHERLOCK! – Shouted Molly while shaking his shoulders.

-Wha… What? – He asked looking around him, quickly remembering what had happened before he had fallen asleep.

-You were having some sort of nightmare… - said Molly running a hand through her hair to get it out of her face. – I've never seen you like that before, what were you dreaming?

-I… - Damn! It was one of those dreams. He knew that what Molly was saying was true, he could feel the fast beating of his heart and his hands were sweating, he was also shaking a bit. What shocked him was that it was not the first time he had waken up like this, it wasn't often but he remembered once being woken up by John in a similar state. – I don't remember.

-You were mumbling something about fire, and hurting someone… Are you ok? – She asked wrapping her arms around him.

-Yes. – He said doing the same, and trying to remember, shouting… a woman… fire… fire! He separated himself from Molly, looking at an empty space but without letting her go. – I think I was dreaming of what happened then… I think there was another person involved in this, and now I know why Izzy had to go into exile. – He locked eyes with Molly again and leaned down to kiss her forehead. – I need to leave, I might not see you in a while, but I'll come back I promise. – He said standing up and choosing a new change of clothes before walking towards the bathroom.

* * *

-Where do you think he's gone? – Asked Lestrade once back at Molly's apartment.

He, John and a team from Scotland Yard were there, looking for the hidden cameras. Until now they had only found two. One in the front wall across from her door that she asked them to leave, thinking that at least that one allowed the security to see who entered her apartment (and hopping that Tom would never appear in those recordings), and another one under a table she had next to the door inside.

Mycroft's P.A. was there as well, she hadn't told them where the cameras were, but she had told them what cameras had been there from the beginning, so that they could discuss what to keep. It turned out that Sherlock had asked for cameras at floor level, that and some movement detectors that were active but didn't record.

Right now her living room was being put upside down, the team was searching inside her books, inside the figures she had to adorn her furniture, in the little cracks on the walls and windows, and even in her electronic devices (a good technician was now checking that her TV just had the exact number of pieces before building it up together as he had done with her stereo).

John was there too, making sure that she wasn't feeling too invaded with all these men checking every surface in her apartment.

-I don't know, he didn't tell me. – She said trying to sound casual, she was regretting telling John that Sherlock had left, he had called asking for him and she had just told him without thinking first on how to explain that she knew first instead of him. And now Greg was also questioning her.

-Don't get me wrong Molly, its very much like Sherlock to just walk away and mind his own business now and then, I've known of him leaving John without telling him in the same way that he often talks of important things without him being there. What I don't understand is why he told you but not us; you wouldn't be hiding something from us, would you?

-Of course not, I don't know why he does half of the things he does. How would you expect me to understand why he suddenly informed me about him going out and not you? Maybe he didn't wanted be questioned, I had just arrived here and was tired; I wasn't really expecting a call from him.

-Molly. – Said John at her back, looking at her while standing next to a man with a short ladder. – We're taking your clock down. – He said and she nodded, walking towards them and giving a quick glance to her TV now being rebuilt.

-Just be careful, that's my favorite clock.

-Yes, it's nice. – Said John looking at the clock. – I bet you can see the hour from every point in the living room.

-Yes, that's what… _oh_. It probably has a camera inside, isn't it? Ok, I'll buy a new one. – She turned around pouting at the mess in the living room and looking at her couch, it was just in front of the clock, not even the TV blocked the way to see it, she remembered the day before Mycroft had come for her, they had_ done_ a few things in that same spot and it had been in plain sight of the camera… Now she could tell Sherlock what Mycroft had seen, she placed a hand over her mouth, trying to cover her blushing cheeks from view. Hopefully where ever Sherlock had gone he would find what he needed to finally solve the case and she wouldn't need to worry about all the security his brother had procured for her.

Molly sighed once again, feeling a bit nervous, she had the feeling that something was going to happen soon, and that it was going to be really difficult to deal with.

* * *

**Quick note: I don't know if I'll be able to update constantly during the holidays, I hope to be able until the week before.**


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